/  ,  / 


THE  MADNESS  OF  MAY 


I  didn't  know  it  was  your  moon,"  he  said. 


[  Page  60 


THE 
MADNESS  OF  MAY 


BY 

MEREDITH  NICHOLSON 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

FREDERIC  DORR  STEELE 


Upon  the  morn  they  took  their  hones  with  the  queen,  and  rode 
a-maying  in  woods  and  meadows,  as  it  pleased  them. 

— The  Age  of  Chivalry. 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 
1917 


COPYBIOHT,    1917,   BT 

CHARLES  SCBIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  March,  1917 


TO 
MRS.  CHARLES  THOMAS  KOUNTZE 


2226890 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"I  didn't  know  it  was  your  moon,"  he  said 

Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

"The  young  person  left  in  haste,  that's  clear 

enough,"  remarked  Hood 30 

"  I  make  it  a  rule  never  to  deny  food  to  any 
applicant,  no  matter  how  unworthy.  You 
may  remain" 122 

"  Throw  up  your  hands,  boys;  it's  no  use !  "  cried 

Hood  in  mock  despair 164 


ILLY  DEERING  let  himself  into  his 
father's  house  near  Radford  Hills, 
Westchester  County,  and  with  a  nod  to 
Briggs,  who  came  into  the  hall  to  take 
his  hat  and  coat,  began  turning  over 
the  letters  that  lay  on  the  table. 

"Mr.  Hood  has  arrived,  sir,"  the 
servant  announced.  "I  put  him  in 
the  south  guest-room." 

Deering  lifted  his  head  with  a  jerk. 
"Hood— what  Hood?" 

"Mr.  Hood  is  all  I  know,  sir.  He 
said  he  was  expected — you  had  asked 
him  for  the  night.  If  there's  a  mis- 
take- 

Deering  reached  for  his  hat  and 
coat,  which  Briggs  still  held.  His  face 
3 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

whitened,  and  the  outstretched  hand 
shook  visibly.  Briggs  eyed  him  with 
grave  concern,  then  took  a  step  toward 
the  stairway. 

"If  you  wish,  sir " 

"Never  mind,  Briggs,"  Deering 
snapped.  "It's  all  right.  I'd  forgotten 
I  had  a  guest  coming;  that's  all." 

He  opened  a  letter  with  assumed  care- 
lessness and  held  it  before  his  eyes  until 
the  door  closed  upon  Briggs.  Then  his 
jaws  tightened.  He  struck  his  hands 
together  and  mounted  the  steps  dog- 
gedly, as  though  prepared  for  a  dis- 
agreeable encounter. 

All  the  way  out  on  the  train  he  had 
feared  that  this  might  happen.  The 
long  arm  of  the  law  was  already  clutch- 
ing at  his  collar,  but  he  had  not  reck- 
oned with  this  quick  retribution.  The 
4 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

presence  of  the  unknown  man  in  the 
house  could  be  explained  on  no  other 
hypothesis  than  the  discovery  of  his 
theft  of  two  hundred  thousand  dollars 
in  gilt-edged  bonds  from  the  banking- 
house  of  Deering,  Gaylord  &  Co.  It 
only  remained  for  him  to  kill  himself 
and  escape  from  the  shame  that  would 
follow  exposure.  He  must  do  this  at 
once,  but  first  he  would  see  who  had 
been  sent  to  apprehend  him.  Hood 
was  an  unfamiliar  name;  he  had  never 
known  a  Hood  anywhere,  he  was  con- 
fident of  that. 

The  house  was  ominously  quiet. 
Deering  paused  when  he  reached  his 
own  room,  glanced  down  the  hall,  then 
opened  the  door  softly,  and  fell  back 
with  a  gasp  before  the  blaze  of  lights. 
There,  lost  in  the  recesses  of  a  com- 
5 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

fortable  chair,  with  his  legs  thrown 
across  the  mahogany  table,  sat  a  man 
he  had  never  seen  before. 

•"Ah,  Deering;  very  glad  you've 
come,"  murmured  the  stranger,  glanc- 
ing up  unhurriedly  from  his  perusal  of 
a  newspaper. 

He  had  evidently  been  reading  for 
some  time,  as  the  floor  was  littered  with 
papers.  At  this  instant  something  in 
the  page  before  him  caught  his  atten- 
tion and  he  deftly  extracted  a  quarter 
of  a  column  of  text,  pinched  it  with  the 
scissors'  points  and  dropped  it  on  a 
pile  of  similar  cuttings  on  the  edge  of 
the  table. 

"Just   a   moment!"   he   remarked   in 
the  tone  of  a  man  tolerant  of  interrup- 
tions, "and  do  pardon  me  for  mussing 
up  your  room.     I  liked  it  better  here 
6 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

than  in  the  pink  room  your  man  gave 
me — no  place  there  to  put  your  legs ! 
Creature  of  habit;  can't  rest  without 
sticking  my  feet  up." 

He  opened  a  fresh  newspaper  and  ran 
his  eyes  over  the  first  page  with  the 
trained  glance  of  an  expert  exchange 
reader. 

"The  Minneapolis  papers  are  usually 
worthless  for  my  purposes,  and  yet 
occasionally  they  print  something  I 
wouldn't  miss.  I'm  the  best  friend  the 
'buy  your  home  paper'  man  has,"  he 
ran  on  musingly,  skimming  the  page 
and  ignoring  Deering,  who  continued  to 
stare  in  stupefied  amazement  from  the 
doorway.  "Ah!" 

The  scissors  flashed  and  the  unknown 
added  another  item  to  his  collection. 

"That's  all,"  he  remarked  with  a 
7 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

sigh.     He  dropped  his  feet  to  the  floor, 
rose,  and  lazily  stretched  himself. 

Tall,  compactly  built,  a  face  weather- 
beaten  where  the  flesh  showed  above  a 
close-clipped  brownish  beard,  and  hair, 
slightly  gray,  brushed  back  smoothly 
from  a  broad  forehead — these  items 
Deering  noted  swiftly  as  he  dragged 
himself  across  the  threshold. 

"Really,  a  day  like  this  would  put 
soul  into  a  gargoyle,"  the  stranger  re- 
marked, brushing  the  paper-shavings 
from  his  trousers.  "Motored  up  from 
Jersey  and  had  a  grand  time  all  the  way. 
I  walk,  mostly,  but  commandeer  a  ma- 
chine for  long  skips.  To  learn  how  to 
live,  my  dear  boy,  that's  the  great  busi- 
ness !  Not  sure  I've  caught  the  trick, 
but  I'm  working  at  it,  with  such  feeble 
talents  as  the  gods  have  bestowed." 
8 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

He  filled  a  pipe  deftly  from  a  canvas 
bag,  and  drew  the  strings  together  with 
white,  even  teeth. 

This  cool,  lounging  stranger  was  play- 
ing a  trick  of  some  kind;  Deering  was 
confident  of  this  and  furious  at  his  utter 
inability  to  cope  with  him.  He  clung 
to  the  back  of  a  chair,  trembling  with 
anger. 

"My  name,"  the  visitor  continued, 
tossing  his  match  into  an  ash-tray,  "is 
Hood — R.  Hood.  The  lone  initial  might 
suggest  Robert  or  Roderigo,  but  if  your 
nursery  library  was  properly  stocked  you 
will  recall  a  gentleman  named  Robin 
Hood  of  Sherwood  Forest.  I  don't 
pretend  to  be  a  descendant — far  from 
it;  adopted  the  name  out  of  sheer  ad- 
miration for  one  of  the  grandest  figures 
in  all  literature.  Robin  Hood,  Don 
9 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

Quixote,  and  George  Borrow  are  ru- 
bricated saints  in  my  calendar.  By  the 
expression  on  your  face  I  see  that  you 
don't  make  me  out,  and  I  can't  blame 
you  for  thinking  me  insane;  but,  my 
dear  boy,  such  an  assumption  does  me 
a  cruel  wrong !  Briefly,  I'm  a  hobo  with 
a  weakness  for  good  society,  and  yet  a 
friend  of  the  under  dog.  I  confess  to  a 
passion  for  grand  opera  and  lobster  in 
all  its  forms.  Do  you  grasp  the  idea?" 
Deering  did  not  grasp  it.  The  man 
had  protested  his  sanity,  but  Deering 
had  heard  somewhere  that  a  confident 
belief  in  their  mental  soundness  is  a 
common  hallucination  of  lunatics.  Still, 
the  stranger's  steady  gray  eyes  did  not 
encourage  the  suspicion  that  he  was 
mad.  Deering's  own  reason,  already 
severely  taxed,  was  unequal  to  the  task 
10 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

of  dealing  with  this  assured  and  cheer- 
ful Hood,  who  looked  like  a  gentleman 
but  talked  like  a  fool. 

"For  God's  sake,  who  are  you  and 
what  do  you  want?"  he  demanded  an- 
grily. 

Hood  pushed  him  gently  into  a  chair, 
utterly  ignoring  his  fury. 

"What  time  do  we  dine?  Seven- 
thirty,  I  think  your  servant  told  me. 
I  shan't  dress  if  you  don't  mind.  Speak- 
ing of  clothes,  that  man  of  yours  is  a 
very  superficial  observer;  let  me  in  on 
the  strength  of  my  automobile  coat,  and 
I  suppose  the  machine  impressed  him 
too.  If  he'd  looked  under  the  surface 
at  these  poor  rags,  I'd  never  have  got 
by !  That  illustrates  an  ancient  habit 
of  the  serving  class  in  thinking  all  is 
gold  that  glitters.  Snobs !  Deplorable 
11 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

weakness !  Let's  talk  like  sensible  men 
till  the  gong  sounds." 

Deering  shook  himself  impatiently. 
This  absurd  talk,  carefully  calculated, 
he  assumed,  to  prolong  his  misery,  had 
torn  his  nerves  to  shreds.  Hood  sat 
down  close  to  him  in  a  straight-backed 
chair,  crossed  his  legs,  and  thrust  his 
hands  into  his  coat  pockets. 

"My  dear  boy,  in  the  name  of  all  the 
gods  at  once,  cheer  up !  To  satisfy  your 
very  natural  curiosity,  I'll  say  that  I 
fancied  you  were  in  trouble  and  needed 
a  strong  arm  to  sustain  you  in  your 
hour  of  trial.  Laudable  purpose — ah, 
I  see  you  begin  to  feel  more  comfort- 
able. I  have  every  intention  of  play- 
ing the  big  brother  to  you  for  a  few 
hours,  weeks,  or  months,  or  till  you  come 
out  of  your  green  funk.  You  wonder, 
12 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

of  course,  what  motive  I  have  for  in- 
truding in  this  way — lying  to  your  ser- 
vant, and  making  myself  at  home  in  your 
house.  The  motive,  so  far  as  there  is 
any,  is  the  purely  selfish  one  of  finding 
enjoyment  for  myself,  while  incidentally 
being  of  service  to  you.  And  you're 
bound  to  admit  that  that's  a  fair  offer 
in  this  world  of  greed  and  selfishness. 
The  great  trouble  with  most  of  us  is 
that  the  flavor  so  soon  wears  out  of  the 
chewing-gum.  Do  you  remember  the 
last  time  you  had  a  good,  hearty  laugh? 
I'll  wager  you  don't!" 

Deering  scowled,  but  Hood  continued 
to  expound  his  philosophy: 

"The  world's  roaring  along  at  such  a 

rate  we  can't  find  happiness  anywhere 

but  in  the  dictionary.    It's  worrying  me 

to  death,  just  the  spectacle  of  the  fool 

13 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

old  human  race  never  getting  a  chance 
to  sit  down  by  the  side  of  the  road  and 
pick  the  pebbles  out  of  its  shoes.  Every- 
body's feet  hurt  and  everybody's  carry- 
ing a  blood  pressure  that's  bound  to 
blow  the  roof  off.  I  tell  you,  Deering, 
civilization  hasn't  got  anything  on  the 
gypsies  but  soap  and  sanitary  plumbing. 
I'm  just  forty-five  and  for  years  I've 
kept  in  motion  most  of  the  time.  Alone 
of  great  travellers  William  Jennings 
Bryan  has  reviewed  more  water-tanks 
than  I.  I  find  the  same  delight  in  Butte, 
Peoria,  Galesburg,  Des  Moines,  Ashta- 
bula,  and  Bangor,  in  Tallahassee,  Bir- 
mingham, and  Waco,  that  others  seek  in 
London,  Paris,  and  Vienna — and  it's 
all  American  stuff — business  of  flags  fly- 
ing and  Constitution  being  chanted  off- 
stage by  a  choir  of  a  million  voices ! 
14 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

I've  lived  in  coal-camps  in  Colorado,  win- 
tered with  Maine  lumbermen,  hopped 
the  ties  with  hobos,  and  enjoyed  the 
friendship  of  thieves.  I  don't  mean  to 
brag,  but  I  suppose  there  isn't  a  really 
first-rate  crook  in  the  country  that  I 
don't  know.  And  down  in  the  under- 
world they  look  on  me — if  I  may  mod- 
estly say  it — as  an  old  reliable  friend. 
I've  found  these  contacts  immensely 
instructive,  as  you  may  imagine.  Don't 
get  nervous !  I  never  stole  anything  in 
my  life." 

He  thrust  his  fingers  into  his  inside 
waistcoat  pocket,  and  drew  out  a  packet 
of  bills,  neatly  folded,  and  opened  them 
for  Deering's  wondering  inspection. 

"I  beg  of  you  don't  jump  to  the  con- 
clusion that  I  roll  in  wealth.  Money  is 
poison  to  me;  I  hate  the  very  smell  of 
15 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

it — haven't  a  cent  of  my  own  in  the 
world.  This  belongs  to  my  chauffeur — 
carry  it  as  a  precaution  merely." 

Hood  relighted  his  pipe,  and  dreamily 
watched  the  match  blacken  and  curl  in 
his  fingers. 

"Your  chauffeur?"  Deering  sug- 
gested, like  a  child  prompting  a  parent 
in  the  midst  of  an  absorbing  story. 

"Oh,  yes!  Cassowary "-  —he  pro- 
nounced the  word  lingeringly  as  though 
to  prolong  his  pleasure  in  it — "real  name 
doesn't  matter.  His  father  rolled  up  a 
big  wad  cutting  the  forest  primeval  into 
lumber,  and  left  it  to  Cassowary — mat- 
ter of  a  million  or  two.  Cassowary  had 
been  driven  to  drink  by  an  unhappy 
love-affair  when  I  plucked  him  as  a 
brand  from  burning  Broadway.  Nice 
chap,  but  too  much  self-indulgence; 
16 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

never  had  any  discipline.  He's  pretty 
well  broken  in  now,  and  as  we  seemed 
to  need  each  other  we  follow  the  long 
trail  together.  Manage  to  hit  it  off 
first-rate.  He's  still  mooning  over  the 
girl;  tough  that  he  can't  have  the  only 
thing  in  the  world  he  wants !  Obstrep- 
erous parent  adumbrated  in  the  fore- 
ground, shotgun  in  hand.  I  don't  allow 
Cassowary  to  carry  any  money — would 
rather  risk  contamination  myself  than 
expose  him  to  it.  If  he  stays  with  me 
for  a  few  years,  his  accumulated  in- 
come will  roll  up  so  that  he  can  en- 
dow orchestras  and  art  museums  ah1 
through  the  prairie  towns  of  the  West, 
and  become  a  great  benefactor  of  man- 
kind." 

Hood's  story  was  manifestly  absurd, 
and  yet  he  invested  it  with  a  certain 
17 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

plausibility.  Even  Cassowary,  as  Hood 
described  him,  seemed  a  wholly  credible 
person,  and  the  bills  Hood  had  drawn 
from  his  pocket  bore  all  the  marks  of 
honest  money. 

Dinner  was  announced,  and  Hood 
lounged  down-stairs  and  into  the  din- 
ing-room arm  in  arm  with  Deering.  A 
tapestry  on  the  wall  immediately  at- 
tracted his  attention.  After  pecking  at 
the  edges  with  his  long,  slender  fingers 
he  turned  to  his  seat  with  a  sigh. 

"Preposterous  imitation!  I  dare  say 
it  was  passed  off  as  a  real  Gobelin,  but 
I  know  the  artist  who  fakes  those  things 
—a  New  Jersey  genius  and  very  smooth 
at  the  game.'* 

Deering  had  never  paid  the  slightest 
attention  to  the  tapestry,  which  had 
hung  in  the  room  for  a  dozen  years, 
18 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

but  he  apologized  in  a  vein  of  irony 
for  its  spuriousness,  and  steeled  himself 
against  complaints  of  the  food;  but 
after  tasting  the  soup  Hood  praised  it 
with  enthusiasm.  He  was  wholly  at 
ease,  and  his  table  manners  were  be- 
yond criticism.  He  seemed  indifferent 
to  the  construction  Deering  or  the  be- 
wildered Briggs  might  place  upon  his 
confessions,  to  which  he  now  glibly  ad- 
dressed himself. 

"A  couple  of  years  ago  I  was  roaming 
through  the  Western  provinces  with  a 
couple  of  old  friends  who  persist — 
against  my  advice,  I  assure  you — in  the 
childish  pastime  of  safe-blowing.  We 
got  pinched  en  bloc,  and  as  I  was  broke 
I  had  to  sponge  on  the  yeggs  to  get  me 
out  of  jail." 

Briggs  dropped  a  plate  and  Deering 
19 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

frowned  at  the  interruption.    Hood  went 
on  tranquilly: 

"However,  I  was  immured  only  three 
weeks,  and  the  experience  was  broad- 
ening. That  was  in  Omaha,  and  I'll 
say  without  fear  of  contradiction  that 
the  Omaha  jail  is  one  of  the  most  com- 
fortable in  the  Missouri  Valley.  I  rec- 
ommend it,  Deering,  without  reservation, 
to  any  one  in  search  of  tranquillity. 
After  they  turned  me  loose  I  introduced 
myself  to  an  old  college  classmate — fra- 
ternity brother — no  danger  of  exposure. 
I  had  him  put  me  up  at  the  Omaha 
Club,  and  then  I  gave  a  dinner  to  the 
United  States  commissioner  who  heard 
my  case,  the  district  attorney,  and  the 
United  States  marshal.  I  wanted  to 
ask  the  yeggs  too — it  seemed  only  square 
—but  the  judge  was  out  of  town,  and 
20 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  marshal  was  afraid  his  Honor  might 
cite  him  for  contempt  if  he  brought  his 
prisoners  to  my  party.  These  things 
probably  seem  to  you  most  banal,  but 
take  it  all  round  I  do  manage  to  keep 
amused.  Of  course,  now  and  then  I 
pay  more  for  my  fun  than  it's  worth. 
Last  summer  I  mixed  in  with  some 
moonshiners  in  Tennessee.  Moonshining 
is  almost  a  lost  art,  and  I  wanted  the 
experience  before  the  business  became 
extinct.  An  unsociable  lot,  the  lone  still 
boys,  and  wouldn't  warm  up  to  me  a 
bit.  The  unhappy  result  was  a  bullet 
through  my  left  lung.  I  got  patched  up 
by  a  country  doctor,  but  had  to  spend 
two  months  in  a  Philadelphia  hospital 
for  the  finishing  touches." 

Deering's  uneasiness  increased.     This 
man  who  spoke  so  blithely  of  iinprison- 
21 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ment  and  bullets  in  his  lung  must  have 
a  motive  for  his  visit.  With  a  jerk  of 
the  head  he  sent  Briggs  from  the  room. 

"This  is  all  very  amusing,"  he  re- 
marked with  decision  as  he  put  down  his 
salad-fork,  "but  will  you  pardon  me  for 
asking  just  why  you  came  here?  I 
have  your  own  word  for  it  that  your 
favorite  an  u  consorting  with 
criminals,  and  that  money  you  flashed 
may  have  been  stolen  for  all  I  know !  If 
you  have  any  business  with  me " 

"My  dear  boy,  I  don't  blame  you 
for  growing  restless,"  replied  Hood  ami- 
ably. "Of  course,  I  know  that  your  fa- 
ther and  sister  are  away,  and  that  you 
are  alone.  Your  family  history  I  am 
pretty  familiar  with;  your  antecedents 
and  connections  are  excellent.  Your 
mother,  who  died  four  years  ago,  was  of 
22 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  Rhode  Island  Ranger  family — and 
there  is  no  better  blood  in  America. 
Your  sister  Constance  won  the  West- 
chester  golf  championship  last  year — I 
learned  that  from  the  newspapers,  which 
I  read  with  a  certain  passion,  as  you 
have  observed.  If  I  hadn't  thought  you 
needed  company — my  company  particu- 
larly— I  shouldn't  have  landed  on  your 
door-step.  You  dined  Monday  night  at 
the  Hotel  Pendragon — at  a  table  in 
the  corner  on  the  Fifth  Avenue  side, 
and  your  dejection  touched  me  deeply. 
Afterward  you  went  down  to  the  raths- 
keller, and  sat  there  all  alone  drinking 
stuff  you  didn't  need.  It  roused  my  ap- 
prehensions. I  feared  things  were  going 
badly  with  you,  and  I  thought  I'd  give 
you  a  chance  to  unburden  your  soul  to 

me,  Hood,  the  enchanted  hobo " 

23 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"For  sheer  cheek — "  began  Deering 
hotly. 

Hood  lifted  his  hand  deprecatingly. 

"Please  don't!"  he  remarked  sooth- 
ingly. "With  the  tinkle  of  a  bell  you 
can  call  your  man  and  have  me  bounced. 
I  repacked  my  bag  after  taking  a  bath 
in  your  very  comfortable  guest-room, 
and  we  can  part  immediately.  But  let 
us  be  sensible,  Deering;  just  between 
ourselves,  don't  you  really  need  me?" 

His  tone  was  ingratiating,  his  manner 
the  kindest.  Deering  had  walked  the 
streets  for  two  days  trying  to  bring 
himself  to  the  point  of  confessing  his 
plight  to  one  of  a  score  of  loyal  friends 
— men  he  had  known  from  prep-school 
days,  and  on  through  college:  active, 
resourceful,  wealthy  young  fellows  who 
would  risk  much  to  help  him — and  yet 
24 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

in  his  fear  and  misery  he  had  shrunk 
from  approaching  them.  Hood,  he  was 
now  convinced,  was  not  a  detective  come 
to  arrest  him;  in  fact  his  guest's  sym- 
pathies and  connections  seemed  to  lie 
on  the  other  side  of  the  law's  barricade. 

They  had  coffee  in  the  living-room, 
where  Hood,  inspired  by  specimens  of 
the  work  of  several  of  the  later  French 
painters,  discussed  art  with  sophistica- 
tion. Deering  observed  him  intently. 
There  was  something  immensely  attrac- 
tive in  Hood's  face;  his  profile,  clean-cut 
as  a  cameo,  was  thoroughly  masculine; 
his  head  was  finely  moulded,  and  his 
gray  eyes  were  frank  and  responsive. 

"It's  possible,"  said  Deering,  after 
a  long  silence  in  which  Hood  smoked 
meditatively,  "that  you  may  be  able  to 
help  me." 

25 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

On  a  sudden  impulse  he  rose  and  put 
out  his  hand. 

"Thank  you,"  said  Hood  gravely, 
"but  don't  tell  me  unless  you  really 
want  to." 


II 

after  all  the  bother  of  stealing 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars' 
worth  of  negotiable  securities  you  lost 
them!"  Hood  remarked  when  Deering 
ended  his  recital. 

Deering  frowned  and  nodded.  Not 
only  had  he  told  his  story  to  this  utter 
stranger,  but  he  had  found  infinite  relief 
in  doing  so. 

"Let  us  go  over  the  points  again," 
said  Hood  calmly.  :'You  set  down  your 
suitcase  containing  two  hundred  K.  & 
L.  Terminal  5's  in  the  Grand  Central 
Station,  turned  round  to  buy  a  ticket 
to  Boston,  and  when  you  picked  up  the 
bag  it  was  the  wrong  one !  Such  in- 
27 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

stances  are  not  rare;  the  strong  fam- 
ily resemblance  between  suitcases  has 
caused  much  trouble  in  this  world.  Only 
the  other  day  a  literary  friend  told  me 
the  magazine  editors  have  placed  a  ban 
on  mixed  suitcases  as  a  fictional  device; 
but  of  course  that  doesn't  help  us  any 
in  this  affair.  I've  known  a  few  pro- 
fessional suitcase  lifters.  One  of  the 
smoothest  is  Sammy  Tibbots,  but  he's 
doing  time  in  Joliet,  so  we  may  as  well 
eliminate  Sammy." 

"No,  no!"  Deering  exclaimed  im- 
patiently. "It  was  a  girl  who  did  the 
trick!  She  was  at  the  local  ticket  win- 
dow, just  behind  me.  You  see,  I  was 
nervous  and  after  I  bought  my  ticket  it 
dropped  to  the  floor,  and  while  I  was 
picking  it  up  that  girl  grabbed  my  suit- 
case and  beat  it  for  the  gate." 
28 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Enter  the  girl,"  Hood  muttered. 
"'Twas  ever  thus!  Of  course,  you  tele- 
graphed ahead  and  stopped  her — that 
was  the  obvious  course." 

"There  you  go!  If  I'd  done  that, 
there  wouldn't  have  been  any  pub- 
licity; oh,  no!"  Deering  replied  con- 
temptuously. "People  don't  carry  big 
bunches  of  bonds  around  in  suitcases; 
they  send  'em  by  registered  express. 
Of  course,  if  the  girl  was  honest  she'd 
report  the  matter  to  the  railroad  officials 
and  they'd  notify  the  police,  and  they'd 
be  looking  for  the  thief !  And  that's 
just  what  I  don't  want." 

"Of  course  not,"  Hood  assented 
readily.  "That  was  Wednesday  and 
this  is  Friday,  and  you  haven't  seen 
any  ads  in  the  papers  about  a  suitcase 
full  of  bonds?  Well,  I'd  hardly  have 
29 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

missed  such  a  thing  myself.     What  did 
the  girl  look  like?" 

"Small,  dressed  in  blue  and  wearing 
a  white  veil.  She  made  a  lively  sprint 
for  the  gate,  and  climbed  into  the  last 
car  just  as  the  train  started.  The  con- 
ductor yelled  to  her  not  to  try  it,  but 
the  porter  jumped  out  and  pushed  her 
up  the  steps." 

At  Hood's  suggestion  Deering  brought 
the  suitcase  that  had  been  exchanged 
for  his  own,  and  disclosed  its  contents— 
a  filmy  night-dress,  a  silk  shirt-waist, 
a  case  of  ivory  toilet  articles  bearing  a 
complicated  monogram,  a  bottle  of 
violet- water,  hah*  empty,  a  pair  of  silk 
stockings,  a  novel,  a  pair  of  patent- 
leather  pumps,  all  tumbled  together. 

'The    young    person    left    in    haste, 
that's  clear  enough,"  remarked  Hood,  bal- 
30 


'  The  young  person  left  in  haste,  that's  clear  enough,"  remarked  Hood. 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ancing  one   of  the  pumps   in  his  hand. 

'Bonet,  Paris,'  "  he  read,  squinting  at 
the  lining.  "Most  deplorable  that  we 
have  both  slippers;  one  would  have 
been  a  clew,  and  we  could  have  spent 
the  rest  of  our  lives  measuring  foot- 
prints. Very  nice  slippers,  though; 
fastidious  young  person,  I'll  wager.  The 
monogram  on  these  trinkets  is  of  no 
assistance — it  might  be  R.  G.  T.,  or  T. 
G.  R.,  or  G.  R.  T.  Monograms  are  a 
nuisance,  a  delusion,  a  snare!" 

Deering  flung  the  faintly  scented 
violet-tinted  toilet-case  into  the  bag  re- 
sentfully. 

"The  silly  little  fool;  why  didn't  she 
mind  what  she  was  doing!"  he  ex- 
claimed angrily,  "and  not  steal  other 
people's  things !" 

"Pardon  me,"  Hood  remonstrated, 
31 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"but  from  your  story  the  less  you  speak 
of  stealing  the  better.  But  it  isn't  clear 
yet  why  you  sneaked  the  bonds.  Your 
father  has  a  reputation  for  generosity; 
you're  an  only  son  and  slated  to  suc- 
ceed him  in  the  banking-house.  Just 
what  was  your  idea  in  starting  for  Bos- 
ton with  the  loot?" 

"It  was  to  help  Ned  Ranscomb,  an 
old  pal  of  mine,"  Deering  blurted— 
"one  of  the  best  .fellows  on  earth,  who 
has  pulled  me  out  of  a  lot  of  holes.  He'd 
taken  options  on  Mizpah  Copper  for 
more  than  he  could  pay  for  and  fell 
on  my  neck  to  help  him  out.  And  the 
rotten  part  of  it  is  that  I  can't  find  him 
anywhere !  I've  telephoned  and  tele- 
graphed all  over  creation,  but  he's  fallen 
off  the  earth !  I  tell  you  everything 
from  the  start  has  gone  wrong.  I  guess 
32 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

I  didn't  tell  you  that  I  already  had  a 
couple  of  hundred  thousand  in  Mizpah 
—all  I  could  put  up  personally,  and 
now  I've  lost  the  two  hundred  thousand 
I  stole,  and  Ned's  got  cold  feet  and 
drowned  himself,  and  here  I'm  talking 
about  it  to  a  man  who  may  be  a  crook 
for  all  I  know!" 

"This  disappearance  of  Ranscomb  has 
a  suspicious  look,"  remarked  Hood,  ig- 
noring the  fling.  "Either  money  or  a 
woman,  of  course." 

"Ranscomb,"  Deering  retorted  sav- 
agely, "is  all  business  and  never  fools 
with  women.  And  you  can  bet  that 
with  this  big  copper  deal  on  he  wouldn't 
waste  time  on  any  girl  that  ever  was 
born." 

"Human  beings  are  as  we  find  them," 
observed  Hood  judicially,  "but  you're 
33 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

entirely  too  tragic  about  this  whole 
business.  If  it  isn't  comedy,  it's  noth- 
ing. I'll  wager  the  girl  who  skipped 
with  your  stolen  boodle  has  a  sense  of 
humor.  The  key-note  to  her  character 
is  in  this  novel  she  grabbed  as  she 
hastily  packed  her  bag — 'The  Madness 
of  May.'  That's  one  of  the  drollest 
books  ever  written.  A  story  like  that  is 
a  boon  to  mankind;  it  kept  me  chuck- 
ling all  night.  Haven't  read  it?  Well, 
the  heroine  excused  herself  from  a  din- 
ner-table that  was  boring  her  to  death, 
ran  to  her  room  and  packed  a  suitcase, 
and  that  was  the  last  her  friends  saw  of 
her  for  some  time.  Along  about  this 
season  it's  in  the  blood  of  healthy  human 
beings  to  pine  for  clean  air  and  the  open 
road.  It's  the  wanderlust  that's  in  all 
of  us,  old  and  young  alike.  It's  possible 
34 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

that  the  young  lady  who  ran  off  with 
your  bonds  felt  the  spring  madness  and 
determined  to  hit  the  trail  as  the  girl  did 
in  that  yarn.  Finding  herself  possessed 
of  a  lot  of  bonds  belonging  to  a  stranger, 
I  dare  say  she  is  badly  frightened.  Put 
yourself  in  that  girl's  place,  Deering— 
imagine  her  feelings,  landing  somewhere 
after  a  hurried  journey,  opening  her 
suitcase  to  chalk  her  nose,  and  finding 
herself  a  thief !" 

"Rot!"  sniffed  Deering  angrily. 

One  moment  he  distrusted  Hood;  the 
next  his  heart  warmed  to  him.  At  the 
table  the  light-hearted  adventurer  had 
kept  him  entertained  and  amused  with 
his  running  comment  on  books,  public 
characters,  the  world's  gold  supply,  and 
scrapes  he  had  been  in,  without  dropping 
any  clew  to  his  identity.  He  seemed  to 
35 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

be  a  veritable  encyclopaedia  of  places; 
apparently  there  was  not  a  town  in  the 
United  States  that  he  hadn't  visited, 
and  he  spoke  of  exclusive  clubs  and 
thieves'  dens  in  the  same  breath.  But 
Deering's  hopes  of  gaining  practical  aid 
in  the  search  for  the  lost  bonds  was 
rapidly  waning. 

"There's  no  use  being  silly  about 
this;  I'm  going  to  telephone  to  a  detec- 
tive agency  and  tell  them  to  send  out 
a  good  man,  right  away — to-night— 

"As  you  please,"  Hood  assented,  "but 
if  you  do,  you'll  regret  it  to  your  last 
hour.  I  know  the  whole  breed,  and  you 
may  count  on  their  making  a  mess  of 
it.  And  consider  for  a  moment  that 
what  you  propose  means  putting  a  hired 
bloodhound  on  the  trail  of  a  girl  who 
probably  never  harmed  a  kitten  in  her 
36 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

life.  It  would  be  rotten  caddishness  to 
send  a  policeman  after  her.  It  isn't 
done,  Deering;  it  isn't  done  !  Of  course, 
there's  not  much  chance  that  the  sleuths 
would  ever  come  within  a  hundred  miles 
of  her,  but  what  if  they  found  her !  You 
are  a  gentleman,  Deering,  and  that's  not 
the  game  for  you  to  play." 

"  Then  tell  me  a  better  one !  In  ten 
days  at  the  farthest  father  will  be  back 
and  what  am  I  going  to  say  to  him— 
how  am  I  going  to  explain  breaking 
into  his  safety  box  and  stealing  those 
bonds?" 

"You  can't  explain  it,  of  course,  and 
it's  rather  up  to  you,  son,  to  put  'em 
back.  Every  hour  you  spend  talking 
about  it  is  wasted  time.  That  girl's 
had  your  suitcase  two  days,  and  it's 
your  duty  to  find  her.  Something  must 
37 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

have  happened  or  she'd  have  turned  it 
back  to  the  railroad  company.  Per- 
haps she's  been  arrested  as  a  thief  and 
thrown  into  jail !  Again,  her  few  effects 
point  to  a  degree  of  prosperity — she's 
not  a  girl  who  would  steal  for  profit;  I'll 
swear  to  that.  We  must  find  that  girl ! 
We'll  toss  a  slipper  and  start  off  the 
way  the  toe  points." 

Indifferent  to  Deering's  snort  of  dis- 
gust, Hood  was  already  whirling  the 
slipper  in  the  air. 

"Slightly  northeast!  There  you  are, 
Deering — the  clear  pointing  of  Fate ! 
The  girl  wasn't  going  far  or  she  wouldn't 
have  been  in  the  local  ticket  line,  and 
even  a  lady  in  haste  packs  more  stuff 
for  a  long  journey.  We'll  run  up  to 
the  Barton  Arms — an  excellent  inn,  and 
establish  headquarters.  The  girl  who 
38 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

danced  off  with  your  two  hundred  thou- 
sand is  probably  around  there  some- 
where, bringing  up  her  tennis  for  the 
first  tournaments  of  the  season.  Let's 
be  moving;  a  breath  of  air  will  do  you 
good." 

"That's  all  you  can  do  about  it,  is 
it?"  demanded  Deering.  "Let  me  tell 
my  whole  story — put  myself  in  your 
power,  and  now  the  best  you  can  do  is 
to  flip  a  slipper  to  see  which  way  to 
start!" 

"Just  as  good  a  way  as  any,"  re- 
marked Hood  amiably. 

He  pressed  the  button,  ordered  his 
car,  and  then  led  the  way  back  to  Deer- 
ing's  room. 

"Throw  some  things  into  a  bag. 
You'll  soon  forget  your  sordid  money 
affairs  and  begin  to  live,  and  you'd 
39 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

better  be  prepared  for  anything  that 
turns  up.  I'll  fold  the  coats;  some  old 
fishing-togs  for  rough  work  and  jails,  and 
even  your  dress  suit  may  come  in  handy." 

He  fell  to  work,  folding  the  suits 
neatly,  while  Deering  moved  about  like 
a  man  in  a  trance,  assembling  linen  and 
toilet  articles. 

"Something  tells  me  we're  going  to 
have  a  pretty  good  time,"  continued 
Hood  musingly.  "I'll  show  you  untold 
kingdoms,  things  that  never  were  on 
sea  or  land.  We  shall  meet  people  worn 
with  the  world-old  struggle  for  things 
they  don't  need,  and  who  are  out  in  the 
tender  May  air  looking  for  happiness — 
the  only  business,  my  dear  boy,  that's 
really  worth  while.  And  you'll  be  sur- 
prised, son,  to  find  how  many  such 
people  there  are." 

40 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Ah,  you're  ready,  Cassowary!"  re- 
marked Hood  as  they  stepped  out  of 
the  side  door  where  a  big  touring-car 
was  drawn  up  in  the  driveway.  "Just 
a  moment  till  I  get  my  stick." 

Briggs  had  placed  their  bags  in  the 
car,  and  Deering  had  a  moment  in  which 
to  observe  the  chauffeur,  who  stood  erect 
and  touched  his  cap.  Hood's  protege 
proved  to  be  a  tall,  dark,  well-knit  young 
fellow  dressed  in  a  well-fitting  chauffeur's 
costume. 

"It's  a  good  night  for  a  run,"  Deering 
suggested,  eying  the  man  in  the  light 
from  the  door. 

"Fine,  sir." 

"I  hope  the  people  in  the  house  took 
good  care  of  you." 

"Very  good,  sir." 

There  was  nothing  in  Cassowary's 
41 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

voice  or  manner  to  indicate  that  he  was 
the  possessor  of  the  fortune  to  which 
Hood  had  referred  so  lightly.  Deering's 
hastily  formed  impressions  of  Hood's 
chauffeur  were  wholly  agreeable  and  sat- 
isfying. 

Hood,  lingering  in  the  hall,  could  be 
heard  warning  Briggs  against  the  further 
accumulation  of  fat.  He  recommended 
a  new  system  of  reducing,  and  gave  the 
flushed  and  stuttering  butler  the  name  of 
a  New  York  specialist  in  dietetics  whom 
he  advised  him  to  consult  without  de- 
lay. 

The  chauffeur's  lips  twitched  and, 
catching  Deering's  eye,  he  winked.  Deer- 
ing  tapped  his  forehead.  Cassowary 
shook  his  head. 

"Don't  you  believe  it!"  he  ejaculated 
with  spirit. 

42 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

At  this  moment  Hood  appeared  on  the 
steps,  banging  his  recovered  stick  noisily 
as  he  descended. 

"The  Barton  Arms,  Cassowary,"  he 
ordered,  and  they  set  off  at  a  lively  clip. 


43 


Ill 

the  steps  of  the  Barton  Arms  an 
hour  later  Hood  and  Deering  ran 
into  two  men  who  were  just  leaving  the 
inn.  Hood  greeted  them  heartily  as  old 
acquaintances  and  remained  talking  to 
them  while  Deering  went  to  ask  for 
rooms. 

"The  suspicions  of  those  fellows  al- 
ways tickle  me,"  he  remarked  as  he 
joined  Deering  at  the  desk,  where  he 
scrawled  "R.  Hood,  Sherwood ville,"  on 
the  register.  "Detectives — rather  good 
as  the  breed  goes,  but  not  men  of  true 
vision.  Now  and  then  I've  been  able 
to  give  them  a  useful  hint — the  slightest, 
mind  you,  and  only  where  I  could  divert 
suspicion  from  some  of  my  friends  in 
44 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  underworld.  I  always  try  to  be  of 
assistance  to  predatory  genius;  there  are 
clever  crooks  and  stupid  ones;  the  kind 
who  stoop  to  vulgar  gun-work  when  their 
own  stupidity  gets  them  into  a  tight 
pinch  don't  appeal  to  me.  My  artistic 
sensibilities  are  affronted  by  clumsy 
work." 

"Perhaps — "  Deering  suggested  with 
a  hasty  glance  at  the  door — "maybe 
they're  looking  for  me !" 

"Bless  you,  no,"  Hood  replied  as 
they  followed  a  boy  with  their  bags; 
"nothing  so  intelligent  as  that.  On 
the  contrary" — he  paused  at  the  landing 
and  laid  his  hand  impressively  on  Deer- 
ing's  arm — "on  the  contrary,  they're 
looking  for  me  I " 

He  went  on  with  a  chuckle  and  a 
shake  of  the  head,  as  though  the  thought 
45 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

of  being  pursued  by  detectives  gave  him 
the  keenest  pleasure.  When  he  reached 
their  rooms  he  sat  down  and  struck  his 
knee  sharply  and  chuckled  again.  Deer- 
ing  turned  frowningly  for  an  explana- 
tion of  his  mirth. 

"Oh,  don't  bother  about  those  chaps! 
I  repeat,  that  they  are  looking  for  me, 
but" — he  knit  his  fingers  behind  his 
head  and  grinned — "they  don't  know 
it!" 

"Don't  know  you  are  you!"  ex- 
claimed Deering. 

;<  You  never  said  a  truer  word !  More 
than  that,  they're  not  likely  to !  There 
are  things,  son,  I — Hood,  the  frankest 
of  mortals — can't  tell  even  you !  I, 
Hood,  the  inexplicable;  Hood,  the  prince 
of  tramps,  the  connoisseur  in  all  the 
arts — even  I  must  have  my  secrets; 
46 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

but  in  time,  my  dear  boy,  in  time  you 
shall  know  everything !  But  there's  work 
before  us !  The  long  arm  of  coincidence 
beckons  us.  We  shall  test  for  ourselves 
all  the  claptrap  of  the  highest-priced 
novelists." 

Deering  walked  to  the  window  and 
stared  out  at  the  landscape,  then  strode 
toward  Hood  angrily. 

"I  don't  like  this !"  he  wailed  despair- 
ingly. 'You  promised  to  help  me  find 
those  stolen  bonds,  and  now  you're 
talking  like  a  lunatic  again.  If  I  can't 
find  the  bonds,  I've  got  to  find  Rans- 
comb,  and  get  back  that  first  two  hun- 
dred thousand  I  gave  him.  I  can't 
stand  this — detectives  waiting  for  us 
wherever  we  stop,  and  you  babbling 
rot — rot — "  Words  failed  him;  he 
clinched  his  hands  and  glared. 
47 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Don't  bluster,  son,  or  I  shall  grow 
peevish,"  Hood  replied  tolerantly.  "At 
the  present  moment  I  feel  like  taking  a 
walk  under  the  mystical  May  stars. 
The  night  invites  the  soul  to  medita- 
tion; the  stars  may  have  the  answer 
to  all  our  perplexities.  Stop  fretting 
about  your  bonds  and  your  friend  Rans- 
comb;  very  likely  he's  busted,  clean 
broke;  that's  what  usually  happens  to 
fellows  who  take  money  from  their 
friends  and  put  it  into  the  metals.  Pos- 
sibly he  swallowed  poison,  and  went  to 
sleep  forever  just  to  escape  your  wrath. 
Let  us  take  counsel  of  the  heavens  and 
try  to  forget  your  sins.  We  must  still 
move  the  way  the  slipper  pointed — 
northeast.  The  road  bends  away  from 
the  inn  just  right  for  a  fresh  start.  We 
depart,  we  skip,  we  are  on  our  way,  my 
dear  boy!" 

48 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

They  had  walked  nearly  a  mile  when 
Deering  announced  that  he  was  tired, 
and  refused  to  go  farther.  He  clambered 
upon  a  stone  wall  at  the  roadside.  On 
a  high  ridge  some  distance  away  and 
etched  against  the  stars  was  a  long, 
low  house. 

"Splendid  type  of  bungalow,"  Hood 
commented,  throwing  his  legs  over  the 
wall.  "I'm  glad  you  have  an  eye  for 
nice  effects — the  roof  makes  a  pretty 
line  against  the  stars,  and  those  pines 
beyond  add  a  touch — a  distinct  touch. 
Bungalows  should  always  be  planned 
with  a  view  to  night  effects;  too  bad 
architects  don't  always  consider  little 
points  like  that." 

Deering    growled    angrily.      Suddenly 
as  his  eyes  gazed  over  the  long,  sloping 
meadow  that  rose  to  the  house  he  started 
and  laid  his  hand  on  Hood's  knee. 
49 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Steady,  steady!  Always  give  a 
ghost  a  chance,"  murmured  Hood. 

If  the  figure  that  danced  across  the 
meadow  was  a  ghost,  it  was  an  agile 
one,  and  its  costume  represented  a  rad- 
ical departure  from  the  traditional  garb 
of  spirits  doomed  to  walk  the  night. 

"A  boy,  kicking  up  before  he  goes  to 
bed,"  suggested  Deering,  forgetting  his 
sorrows  for  the  moment  as  he  con- 
templated the  dancing  apparition. 

"In  a  clown's  suit,  if  I'm  any  judge," 
said  Hood,  jumping  down  from  the  wall 
and  moving  cautiously  up  the  slope. 
The  dancing  figure  suddenly  darted  away 
through  a  clump  of  trees. 

"Of  course,"  remarked  Hood  when 
they  had  reached  the  level  where  the 
figure  had  executed  its  fantastic  gyra- 
tions, "of  course,  it's  none  of  our  affair; 
50 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

but,  in  that  story  I  was  telling  you  about, 
the  heroine  danced  around  at  night  in 
strange  costumes  scaring  people  to  death. 
I'm  not  saying  this  ghost  has  read  that 
book — I'm  merely  stating  a  fact." 

They  found  a  path  that  zigzagged 
across  the  meadow  and  followed  it  to 
the  edge  of  a  ravine.  Below  they  heard 
the  ripple  of  running  water;  and  as  an 
agreeable  accompaniment  some  one  was 
whistling  softly. 

In  a  moment  the  rattle  of  loosened 
gravel  caused  them  to  drop  down  by 
the  path.  The  pantalooned  figure  came 
up,  still  whistling,  and  paused  for  a 
moment  to  take  breath.  Deering,  throw- 
ing himself  back  from  the  path,  grasped 
a  bush.  The  twigs  rattled  noisily,  and 
with  a  frightened  "Oh!"  the  clown 
darted  away,  nimbly  and  fleetly.  They 
51 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

followed  a  white  blur  in  the  starlight 
for  an  instant  and  heard  the  patter  of 
light  feet. 

"A  girl,"  whispered  Deering. 

"I  believe  you  are  right,"  remarked 
Hood,  feeling  about  in  the  grass,  "and 
here's  a  part  of  her  costume."  He 
picked  up  something  white  and  held  it 
to  his  face.  "She  dropped  her  clown's 
•cap  when  you  began  shaking  the  scenery. 
I  seem  to  remember  that  a  girl's  hair  is 
sweet  like  that !  In  old  times  the 
clown's  cap  was  supposed  to  possess 
magic.  Son,  we  have  begun  well !  A 
girl  masquerading,  happy  victim  of  the 
May  madness — this  is  the  jolliest  thing 
I've  struck  in  years — a  girl,  out  dancing 
all  by  her  lonesome  under  the  stars — 
Columbine  playing  Harlequin!" 

"We  might  as  well  be  off,"  he  added, 
52 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

relighting  his  pipe.  "We  frightened  her 
ladyship,  and  she  will  dance  no  more 
to-night.  However,  we  have  her  cap, 
which  points  the  way  for  to-morrow's 
work." 

'You're  going  to  hang  around  here 
watching  a  girl  cut  monkey-shines!" 
moaned  Deering.  "You  haven't  for- 
gotten what  we're  looking  for,  have 
you!"  he  demanded,  shaking  his  fist  in 
Hood's  face. 

"Once  more,  be  calm!  Don't  you 
see  that  you're  on  the  verge  of  a  new 
'Midsummer  Night's  Dream';  that  the 
world's  tired  of  work  and  gone  back  to 
play !  Don't  talk  like  a  tired  business 
man  whose  wife  has  dragged  him  to  see 
one  of  Ibsen's  frolics — 'Rosmersholm,' 
for  example — where  they  talk  for  three 
hours  and  then  jump  in  the  well !  The 
53 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

fact  that  there's  one  girl  left  in  the 
world  to  dance  under  stars  ought  to 
hearten  you  for  anything.  We  don't 
find  in  this  world  the  things  we're  look- 
ing for,  Deering;  we've  got  to  be  ready 
for  surprises.  I  won't  say  that  that's 
the  girl  who  ran  off  with  your  bonds; 
all  I  can  say  is  that  she's  as  likely  to  be 
the  one  as  any  girl  I  can  think  of.  Tut ! 
Don't  imagine  I  don't  sympathize  with 
you  in  your  troubles;  but  forget  them, 
that's  the  ticket.  This  will  do  for  to- 
night. We'd  better  go  back  to  the 
Barton  and  to  bed." 

He  yawned  sleepily  and  started  toward 
the  road.  Deering  caught  him  by  the 
arm. 

"I  was  just  thinking — "  he  began. 

"Thinking  is  a  bad  habit,  my  boy. 
Thought  is  the  curse  of  the  world.  The 
54 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

less  thinking  we  do  the  better  off  we 
are.  Down  at  Pass  Christian  last  winter 
I  sat  under  a  tree  for  a  solid  month  and 
never  thought  a  think.  Most  profitable 
time  I  ever  spent  in  my  life.  Camped 
with  a  sneak-thief  who  was  making  a 
tour  of  the  Southern  resorts — nice  chap; 
must  tell  you  about  him  sometime." 

He  chuckled  as  though  the  recollec- 
tion of  his  larcenous  companion  pleased 
him  tremendously. 

"I  don't  believe  I'll  go  back  to  the 
Barton  just  yet,"  Deering  suggested 
timidly.  "It's  possible,  you  know,  that 
that  girl  might— 

:<  You've  got  it!"  exclaimed  Hood 
eagerly,  clapping  his  hands  upon  Deer- 
ing's  shoulders.  "The  spell  is  taking 
hold !  Wait  here  a  thousand  years  if 
you  like  for  that  kid  to  come  back,  and 
55 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

don't  bother  about  me.  But  cut  out 
your  vulgar  bond  twaddle,  and  don't 
ask  her  if  she  stole  your  suitcase !  As 
like  as  not  she'll  lead  you  to  the  end  of 
the  rainbow,  and  show  you  a  meal  sack 
bulging  with  red,  red  gold.  Here's  her 
cap — better  keep  it  for  good  luck." 

Deering  stood,  with  the  clown's  cap 
in  his  hand,  staring  after  Hood's  retreat- 
ing figure.  It  was  not  wholly  an  illusion 
that  he  had  experienced  a  change  of 
some  sort,  and  he  wondered  whether 
there  might  not  be  something  in  Hood's 
patter  about  the  May  madness.  At 
any  rate,  his  troubles  had  slipped  from 
him,  and  he  was  conscious  of  a  new  and 
delightful  sense  of  freedom.  Moreover, 
he  had  been  kidnapped  by  the  oddest 
man  he  had  ever  met,  and  he  didn't 
care! 

56 


IV 

"OEYOND  the  bungalow  rose  a  dark 
-*-^  strip  of  woodland,  and  suddenly,  as 
Deering's  eyes  caught  sight  of  it,  he  be- 
came aware  that  the  moon,  which  had 
not  appeared  before  that  night,  seemed 
to  be  lingering  cosily  among  the  trees. 
Even  a  victim  of  May  madness  hardly 
sees  moons  where  they  do  not  exist,  but 
to  all  intents  and  purpose  this  was  a 
moon,  a  large  round  moon,  on  its  way 
down  the  horizon  in  the  orderly  fashion 
of  elderly  moons.  He  turned  toward 
the  road,  then  glanced  back  quickly  to 
make  sure  his  eyes  were  not  playing 
tricks  upon  him.  The  moon  was  still 
there,  blandly  staring.  His  powers  of 
orientation  had  often  been  tested;  on 
57 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

hunting  and  fishing  trips  he  had  ranged 
the  wilderness  without  a  compass,  and 
never  come  to  grief.  He  was  sure  that 
this  huge  orb  was  in  the  north,  where 
no  moon  of  decent  habits  has  any  right 
to  be. 

With  his  eyes  glued  to  this  phenom- 
enon, he  advanced  up  the  slope.  When 
he  reached  the  crest  of  the  meadow  the 
moon  still  hung  where  he  had  first  seen 
it — a  most  unaccountable  moon  that 
apparently  lingered  to  encourage  his  in- 
vestigations. 

He  jumped  a  wall  that  separated  the 
meadow  from  the  woodland,  and  ad- 
vanced resolutely  toward  the  lunar  mys- 
tery. He  found  Stygian  darkness  in 
among  the  pines:  the  moon,  consider- 
ing its  size,  shed  amazingly  little  light. 
He  crept  toward  it  warily,  and  in  a  mo- 
58 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ment  stood  beneath  the  outward  and 
visible  form  of  a  moon  cleverly  con- 
trived of  barrel  staves  and  tissue-paper 
with  a  lighted  lantern  inside,  and  thrust 
into  the  crotch  of  a  tree. 

As  he  contemplated  it  something 
struck  him — something,  he  surmised,  that 
had  been  flung  by  mortal  hand,  and  a 
pine-cone  caught  in  his  waistcoat  collar. 

"Please  don't  spoil  my  moon,"  piped 
a  voice  out  of  the  darkness.  "It's  a 
lot  of  trouble  to  make  a  moon !" 

Walking  cautiously  toward  the  wall, 
he  saw,  against  the  star  dusk  of  the  open, 
the  girl  in  clown  costume  who  had 
danced  in  the  meadow.  She  sat  the 
long  way  of  the  wall,  her  knees  clasped 
comfortably,  and  seemed  in  nowise  dis- 
turbed by  his  appearance. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  "but 
59 


I  didn't  know  it  was  your  moon.  I 
thought  it  was  just  the  regular  old 
moon  that  had  got  lost  on  the  way 
home." 

"Oh,  don't  apologize.  I  rather  hoped 
somebody  would  come  up  to  have  a 
look  at  it;  but  you'd  better  run  along 
now.  This  is  private  property,  you 
know." 

"Thanks  for  the  hint,"  he  remarked. 
"But  on  a  night  when  moons  hang  in 
trees  you  can't  expect  me  to  be  scared 
away  so  easily.  And  besides,  I'm  an 
outlaw,"  he  ended  in  a  tone  meant  to 
be  terrifying. 

She  betrayed  neither  surprise  nor  fear, 
but  laughed  and  uttered  a  "Really!" 
that  was  just  such  a  "really"  as  any 
well-bred  girl  might  use  at  a  tea,  or 
anywhere  else  that  reputable  folk  con- 
60 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

gregate,  to  express  faint  surprise.  Her 
way  of  laughing  was  altogether  charm- 
ing. A  girl  who  donned  a  clown's  garb 
for  night  prowling  and  manufactured 
moons  for  her  own  amusement  could 
not  have  laughed  otherwise,  he  re- 
flected. 

"A  burglar?"  she  suggested  with  mild 
curiosity. 

"Not  professionally;  but  I'm  seriously 
thinking  of  going  in  for  it.  What  do  you 
think  of  burgling  as  a  career?" 

"Interesting — rather — I  should  think," 
she  replied  after  a  moment's  hesitation, 
as  though  she  were  weighing  his  sug- 
gestion carefully. 

"And    highway    robbery    appeals    to 
me — rather.     It's  more  picturesque,  and 
you  wouldn't  have  to  break  into  houses. 
I  think  I'd  rather  work  in  the  open." 
61 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"The  chances  of  escape  might  be 
better,"  she  admitted;  "but  you  needn't 
try  the  bungalow  down  there,  for  there's 
nothing  in  it  worth  stealing.  I  give  you 
my  word  for  that !" 

"Oh,  I  hadn't  thought  of  the  bunga- 
low. I  had  it  in  mind  to  begin  by  hold- 
ing up  a  motor.  Nobody's  doing  that 
sort  of  thing  just  now." 

"Capital!"  she  murmured  pleasantly, 
as  though  she  found  nothing  extraor- 
dinary in  the  idea.  "So  you're  really 
new  at  the  game." 

"Well,  I've  stolen  before,  if  that's 
what  you  mean,  but  I  didn't  get  much 
fun  out  of  it.  I  suppose  after  the  first 
fatal  plunge  the  rest  will  come  easier." 

"I  dare  say  that's  true,"  she  assented. 
There   was   real   witchery   in   the   girl's 
light,  murmurous  laugh. 
62 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

It  seemed  impossible  to  surprise  her; 
she  was  taking  him  as  a  matter  of  course 
— as  though  sitting  on  a  wall  at  night, 
and  talking  to  a  strange  young  man 
about  stealing  was  a  familiar  experi- 
ence. 

"I've  joined  Robin  Hood's  band,"  he 
continued.  "At  least  I've  been  adopted 
by  a  new  sort  of  Robin  Hood  who's 
travelling  round  robbing  the  rich  to  pay 
the  poor,  and  otherwise  meddling  in 
people's  affairs — the  old  original  Robin 
Hood  brought  up  to  date.  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  him  I  might  be  cooling  my  heels 
in  jail  right  now.  He's  an  expert  on 
jails — been  in  nearly  every  calaboose  in 
America.  He's  tucked  me  under  his 
wing — persuaded  me  to  take  the  high- 
way, and  not  care  a  hang  for  anything." 

"How  delightful!"  she  replied,  but  so 
63 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

slowly  that  he  began  to  fear  that  his 
confidences  had  alarmed  her.  'That's 
too  good  to  be  true;  you're  fooling, 
aren't  you — really  ?  " 

His  eyes  had  grown  accustomed  to  the 
light,  and  her  profile  was  now  faintly 
limned  in  the  dusk.  Hers  was  the 
slender  face  of  youth.  The  silhouette 
revealed  the  straightest  of  noses  and 
the  firmest  of  little  chins.  She  was 
young,  so  young  that  he  felt  himself 
struggling  in  an  immeasurable  gulf  of 
years  as  he  watched  her.  Apparently 
such  sophistication  as  she  possessed  was 
in  the  things  of  the  world  of  wonder,  the 
happy  land  of  make-believe. 

"Keats  would  have  liked  a  night  like 
this,"  she  said  gently. 

Deering  was  silent.  Keats  was  a 
person  whom  he  knew  only  as  the  sub- 
64 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ject  of  a  tiresome  lecture  in  his  English 
course  at  college. 

"Bill  Blake  would  have  adored  it, 
but  he  would  have  had  lambs  in  the 
pasture,"  she  added. 

"Bill  Blake?"  he  questioned.  "Do 
you  mean  Billy  Blake  who  was  half- 
back on  the  Harvard  eleven  last  year?" 

She  tossed  her  head  and  laughed 
merrily. 

"I  love  that!"  she  replied  linger- 
ingly,  as  though  to  prolong  her  joy  in 
his  ignorance.  "I  was  thinking  of  a 
poet  of  that  name  who  wrote  a  nice 
verse  something  like  this: 

'I  give  you  the  end  of  a  golden  string; 

Only  wind  it  into  a  ball, 
It  will  lead  you  in  at  Heaven's  gate, 
Built  in  Jerusalem's  wall.'  ' 

No   girl   had   ever   quoted   poetry  to 
him  before,  and  he  was  thinking  more 
65 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

of  her  pretty  way  of  repeating  the 
stanza — keeping  time  with  her  hands— 
than  of  the  verse  itself. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "what's  the  rest  of 
it?" 

"Oh,  there  isn't  any  rest  of  it !  Don't 
you  see  that  there  couldn't  be  anything 
more — that  it's  finished — a  perfect  little 
poem  all  by  itself ! " 

He  played  with  a  loosened  bit  of 
stone,  meekly  conscious  of  his  stupidity. 
And  he  did  not  like  to  appear  stupid 
before  a  girl  who  danced  alone  in  the 
starlight  and  hung  moons  in  trees. 

"I'm  afraid  I  don't  get  it.  I'd  a  lot 
rather  stay  by  this  wall  talking  to  you 
than  go  to  Jerusalem." 

'You'd  be  foolish  to  do  that  if  you 
really  had  the  end  of  the  golden  string, 
and  could  follow  it  to  Paradise.    I  think 
66 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

it  means  any  nice  place — just  any  place 
where  happiness  is." 

He  was  not  getting  on,  and  to  gain 
time  he  bade  her  repeat  the  stanza. 

"I  think  I  understand  now;  I've 
never  gone  in  much  for  poetry,  you 
know,"  he  explained  humbly. 

"Burglars  are  natural  poets,  I  sup- 
pose," she  continued.  "A  burglar  just 
has  to  have  imagination  or  he  can't 
climb  through  the  window  of  a  house 
he  has  never  seen  before.  He  must 
imagine  everything  perfectly — the  silver 
on  the  sideboard,  the  watch  under  the 
pillow,  and  the  butler  stealing  down  the 
back  stairs  with  a  large,  shiny  pistol  in 
his  hand." 

"Certainly,"  Deering  agreed  readily. 
"And  if  he  runs  into  a  policeman  on 
the  way  out  he's  got  to  imagine  that 
67 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

it's  an  old  college  friend  and  embrace 
him." 

"You  mustn't  spoil  a  pretty  idea  that 
way!"  she  admonished  in  a  tone  that 
greatly  softened  the  rebuke.  "Come 
to  think  of  it,  you  haven't  told  me  your 
name  yet;  of  course,  if  you  become  a 
burglar,  you  will  have  a  great  number 
of  names,  but  I'd  like  awfully  to  know 
your  true  one." 

"Why?"  he  demanded. 

"Because  you  seem  nice  and  well 
brought  up  for  a  burglar,  and  I  liked 
your  going  up  to  the  moon  and  poking 
your  finger  into  it.  That  makes  me 
feel  that  I'd  like  to  know  you." 

"Well,  the  circumstances  being  as 
they  are,  and  being  really  a  thief,  you 
mustn't  ask  me  to  tell  my  real  name; 
for  all  I  know  you  may  be  a  detective 
in  disguise." 

68 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

' T in  not — really,"  she  said — he  found 
her  "  really s"  increasingly  enchanting. 

"You  might  call  me  Friar  Tuck  or 
Little  John.  I'm  travelling  with  Robin 
Hood,  you  remember." 

"Mr.  Tuck— that  will  be  splendid!" 

"And  now  that  you  know  my  name 
it's  only  fair  to  tell  me  yours." 

"Pierrette,"  she  answered. 

"Not  really!" 

His  unconscious  imitation  of  her 
manner  of  uttering  this  phrase  evoked 
another  merry  laugh. 

"Yes,  really,"  she  answered. 

"And  you  live  somewhere,  of  course — 
not  in  the  tree  up  there  with  your  moon, 
but  in  the  bungalow,  I  suppose." 

"I  live  wherever  I  am;  that's  the 
fun  of  playing  all  the  time,"  she  re- 
plied evasively.  "Poste  restante,  the 
Little  Dipper.  How  do  you  like  that?" 
69 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"But  just  now  your  true  domicile  is 
the  bungalow?"  he  persisted. 

"Oh,  I've  been  stopping  there  for  a 
few  days,  that's  all.  I  haven't  any 
home — not  really,"  she  added  as  though 
she  found  her  homelessness  the  happiest 
of  conditions.  She  snapped  her  fingers 
and  recited: 

"Wherever  stars  shine  brightest,  there  my  home 

shall  be, 

In  the  murmuring  forest  or  by  the  sounding  sea, 
With  overhead  the  green  bough  and  underfoot 

the  grass, 
Where  only  dreams  and  butterflies  ever  dare  to 

pass !" 

"Is  that  Keats  or  Blake?"  he  ven- 
tured timidly. 

"It's  me,  you  goose!  But  it's  only 
an  imitation — why,  Stevenson,  of  course, 
and  pretty  punk  as  you  ought  to  know. 
Gracious !" 

70 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

She  jumped  down  from  the  wall,  on 
the  side  toward  the  bungalow,  and 
stared  up  at  the  tree  she  had  embellished 
with  her  moon. 

"The  moon's  gone  out,  and  I've  got 
to  go  in!" 

"Please,  before  you  go,  when  can  I 
see  you  again?" 

"Who  knows!"  she  exclaimed  un- 
sympathetically;  but  she  waited  as 
though  pondering  the  matter. 

"But  I  must  see  you  again!"  he  per- 
sisted. 

"Oh,  I  shouldn't  say  that  it  was 
wholly  essential  to  your  happiness — or 
mine !  I  can't  meet  burglars — socially  !" 

"Burglars!  But  I'm  not—  '  he  cried 
protestingly. 

She  bent  toward  him  with  one  hand 
extended  pleadingly. 
71 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Don't  say  it!  Don't  say  it!  If 
you  say  you're  not,  you  won't  be  any 
fun  any  more !" 

"Well,  then  we'll  say  I  am — a  terrible 
freebooter — a  bold,  bad  pirate,"  he 
growled.  "Now,  may  I  come?" 

She  mused  a  moment,  then  struck 
her  hands  together. 

"Come  to  the  bungalow  breakfast; 
that's  a  fine  idea !" 

"And  may  I  bring  Hood?"  he  asked, 
leaning  half-way  across  the  wall  in  his 
anxiety  to  conclude  the  matter  before 
she  escaped.  "He's  my  boss,  you  un- 
derstand, and  I'm  afraid  I  can't  shake 
him." 

"Certainly;  bring  Mr.  Hood.  Break- 
fast at  eight." 

"And    your    home — your    address — is 
there  in  the  bungalow?" 
72 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"I've  told  you  where  my  home  is, 
in  a  verse  I  made  up  specially;  and  my 
address  is  care  of  the  Little  Dipper- 
there  it  is,  up  there  in  the  sky,  all  nice 
and  silvery." 

His  gaze  followed  the  pointing  of  her 
finger.  The  Little  Dipper,  as  an  ad- 
dress for  the  use  of  mortals,  struck  him 
as  rather  remote.  To  his  surprise  she 
advanced  to  the  wall,  rested  her  hands 
upon  it,  and  peered  into  his  face. 

"Isn't  this  perfectly  killing?"  she 
asked  in  a  tone  wholly  different  from 
that  in  which  she  had  carried  on  her 
share  of  the  colloquy. 

He  experienced  an  agreeable  thrill  as 
it  flashed  upon  him  that  this  was  no 
child,  but  a  young  woman  who,  know- 
ing the  large  world,  had  suddenly  awak- 
ened to  a  consciousness  that  encounters 
73 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

with  strange  young  men  by  starlight 
were  not  to  be  prolonged  forever.  In  the 
luminous  dusk  he  noted  anew  the  deli- 
cate perfectness  of  her  face,  the  fine 
brow  about  which  her  hair  had  tumbled 
from  her  late  exertions.  Her  eyes 
searched  his  face  with  honest  curiosity 
— for  an  instant  only. 

Then  she  stepped  back,  as  though  to 
mark  a  return  to  her  original  character, 
and  answered  her  own  question  with  an 
air  of  amused  conviction: 

"It  is  perfectly  killing!" 

His  hand  fumbled  the  cap  in  his 
pocket. 

"Here's  something  I  found  down 
yonder — your  clown's  cap." 

She  took  it  with  a  murmur  of  thanks, 
and  darted  away  toward  the  bungalow. 
He  heard  her  light  step  on  the  veranda 
74 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

and  then  a  door  closed  with  a  sharp 
bang. 

Deering  walked  back  to  the  inn  with 
his  head  high  and  elation  throbbing  in 
his  pulses.  He  observed  groups  of  peo- 
ple playing  bridge  in  the  inn  parlor, 
and  he  was  filled  with  righteous  con- 
tempt for  them.  The  May  air  had 
changed  his  whole  nature.  He  was  not 
the  William  B.  Deering  who  had  medi- 
tated killing  himself  a  few  hours  earlier. 
A  new  joy  had  entered  into  him;  he  was 
only  afraid  now  that  he  might  not  live 
forever ! 

Hood  slept  tranquilly,  his  bed  lit- 
tered with  the  afternoon's  New  York 
papers  which  evidently  he  had  been 
scissoring  when  he  fell  asleep.  Deer- 
ing's  attitude  toward  the  strange  va- 
grant had  changed  since  his  meeting 
75 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

with  Pierrette.  Hood  might  be  as  mad 
as  the  traditional  hatter,  and  yet  there 
was  something — indubitably  something — 
about  the  man  that  set  him  apart  from 
the  common  run  of  mortals. 

Deering  lay  awake  a  long  time  re- 
joicing in  his  new  life,  and  when  he 
dreamed  it  was  of  balloon-like  moons 
cruising  lazily  over  woods  and  fields, 
pursued  by  innumerable  Pierrettes  in 
spotted  trousers  and  pointed  caps. 


76 


T  TE  awoke  at  seven,  and  looked  in 
-*-  •*•  upon  Hood,  who  lay  sprawled 
upon  his  bed  reading  one  of  the  battered 
volumes  of  Borrow  he  carried  in  his  bag. 

"Get  your  tub,  son;  I've  had  mine 
and  came  back  to  bed  to  let  you  have 
your  sleep  out.  Marvellous  man — Bor- 
row. Spring's  the  time  to  read  him. 
We'll  have  some  breakfast  and  go  out 
and  see  what  the  merry  old  world  has 
to  offer." 

With  nice  calculation  he  tossed  the 
book  into  the  open  bag  on  the  further 
side  of  the  room,  rose,  and  stretched 
himself.  Deering  stifled  an  impulse  to 
scoff  at  his  silk  pajamas  as  hardly  an  ap- 
propriate sleeping  garb  for  one  who  pro- 
77 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

fessed  to  have  taken  vows  of  poverty. 
Hood  noted  his  glance. 

"Found  these  in  some  nabob's  house 
at  Bar  Harbor  last  fall.  Went  up  in 
November,  after  all  the  folks  had  gone, 
to  have  a  look  at  the  steely  blue  ocean; 
camped  in  a  big  cottage  for  a  few  days. 
Found  a  drawer  full  of  these  things  and 
took  the  pink  ones.  Wrote  my  thanks 
on  the  villa's  stationery  and  pinned  'em 
to  the  fireplace.  I  hate  to  admit  it, 
son,  but  I  verily  believe  I  could  stand 
a  little  breakfast." 

"We're  going  out  for  breakfast," 
Deering  remarked  with  affected  care- 
lessness. "I  accepted  an  invitation  for 
you  last  night.  A  girl  up  there  at  the 
bungalow  asked  me;  I  told  her  about 
you,  and  she  seemed  willing  to  stand 
for  it." 

78 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"The  thought  pleases  me!  You  are 
certainly  doing  well,  my  boy ! "  Hood 
replied,  dancing  about  on  one  foot  as 
he  drew  a  sock  on  the  other. 

He  explained  that  a  man  should  never 
sit  down  while  dressing;  that  the  exer- 
cise he  got  in  balancing  himself  was  of 
the  greatest  value  as  a  stimulus  to  the 
circulation. 

"She's  a  very  nice  girl,  I  think," 
Deering  continued,  showing  his  lathered 
face  at  the  bathroom  door. 

He  hadn't  expected  Hood  to  betray 
surprise,  and  he  was  not  disappointed 
in  the  matter-of-course  fashion  in  which 
his  companion  received  the  invitation. 

"Breakfast  is  the  one  important  meal 
of  the  day,"  Hood  averred  as  he  exe- 
cuted a  series  of  hops  in  his  efforts  to 
land  inside  his  trousers.  "All  great  ad- 
79 


*-*  jb*  "tJucA-tA—  Oit 

THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ventures  should  be  planned  across  break- 
fast tables;  centrepiece  of  cool  fruits; 
coffee  of  teasing  fragrance,  the  toast 
crisp;  an  egg  perhaps,  if  the  morning 
labors  are  to  be  severe.  I  know  a  chap 
in  Boston  who  cuts  out  breakfast  alto- 
gether. Most  melancholy  person  I  ever 
knew;  peevish  till  one  o'clock,  then 
throws  in  a  heavy  lunch  that  ruins  him 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  What  did  you 
say  the  adorable's  name  was?" 

"Pierrette,"  Deering  spluttered  from 
the  tub. 

"Delightful!"  cried  Hood,  flourishing 
his  hair-brushes.  "Then  you  met  the 
dancing-girl !  I  must  say " 

"She  had  hung  a  moon  in  a  tree!  I 
followed  the  moon  and  found  the  girl!" 

"Always  the  way;  it  never  fails," 
Hood  commented,  as  though  the  find- 
80 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ing  of  the  girl  had  fully  justified  his 
philosophy  of  life.  "But  we  can't  fool 
away  much  time  at  the  bungalow;  we've 
got  a  lot  to  do  to-day." 

"Time!"  cried  Deering,  "I'm  going 
to  stay  forever !  You  can't  expect  me 
to  find  a  girl  whose  post-office  address 
is  the  Little  Dipper,  and  then  go  coolly 
off  and  forget  about  her !" 

"That's  the  right  spirit,  son,"  Hood 
remarked  cautiously;  "but  we'll  see. 
I'll  have  a  look  at  her  and  decide  what's 
best  for  you.  My  business  right  now  is 
to  keep  you  out  of  trouble.  You  can't 
tell  about  these  moon  girls;  she  may 
have  a  wart  on  her  nose  when  you  see 
her  in  daylight." 

Deering  hooted. 

"And  she  probably  has  parents  who 
may  not  relish  the  idea  of  having  two 
81 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

strange  men  prowling  about  the  premises 
looking  for  breakfast.  There  are  still  a 
few  of  those  old-fashioned  people  left 
in  the  world.  It  may  be  only  a  back- 
door hand-out  for  us,  but  I've  sawed 
wood  for  breakfast  before  now.  I'll 
wait  for  you  below;  I  want  to  see  how 
old  Cassowary's  standing  the  racket. 
The  boy  seemed  a  little  cheerfuller  last 
night." 

They  walked  to  the  bungalow  which, 
to  Deering's  relief,  was  still  perched  on 
the  ridge  as  he  had  left  it.  He  was 
beset  with  misgivings  as  they  entered 
the  gate  and  followed  a  hedge-lined 
path  that  rose  gradually  to  the  house; 
it  might  be  a  joke  after  all;  but  Hood's 
manner  was  reassuring.  He  swung  his 
stick  and  praised  the  landscape,  and 
when  they  reached  the  veranda  banged 
82 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  knocker  noisily.  A  capped  and 
aproned  maid  opened  the  door  imme- 
diately. 

Deering,  struck  with  cowardice,  found 
his  legs  quaking  and  stepped  back  to 
allow  Hood  to  declare  their  purpose. 

"We  have  come  for  breakfast,  lass," 
Hood  announced,  "and  have  brought 
our  appetites  with  us  if  that  fact  in- 
terests you." 

:<You  are  expected,"  said  the  maid; 
"breakfast  will  be  served  immediately." 

She  led  the  way  across  a  long  living- 
room  to  the  dining-room  beyond,  where 
a  table  was  set  for  three.  The  tangible 
presence  of  the  third  plate  caused  Deer- 
ing's  heart  to  thump. 

"The  host  or  hostess — ?"  Hood  in- 
quired as  the  girl  waited  for  them  to 
be  seated. 

83 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"The  lady  of  the  house  wished  me  to 
say  that  she  would  be  here — in  spirit ! 
Pressing  duties  called  her  elsewhere." 

Deering's  spirits  sank.  Pierrette, 
then,  was  only  a  dream  of  the  night, 
and  had  never  had  the  slightest  inten- 
tion of  meeting  him  at  breakfast !  The 
maid  curtsied  and  vanished  through  a 
swing  door. 

Hood,  accepting  the  situation  as  he 
found  it,  expressed  his  satisfaction  as 
a  bowl  of  strawberries  was  placed  on  the 
table,  and  as  the  door  ceased  swinging 
behind  the  maid,  laid  his  hand  on  Deer- 
ing's  arm.  "Don't  worry;  mere  shy- 
ness has  driven  our  divinity  away:  you 
can  see  for  yourself  that  even  a  girl  who 
hangs  moons  in  trees  might  shrink  from 
the  shock  of  a  daylight  meeting  with  a 
gentleman  she  had  found  amusing  by 
84 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

starlight.  Let  it  suffice  that  she  provided 
the  breakfast  according  to  schedule— 
that's  highly  encouraging.  With  straw- 
berries at  present  prices  she  has  been 
generous.  This  little  disappointment 
merely  adds  zest  to  the  adventure." 

The  hand  of  the  maid  as  she  changed 
his  plate  at  once  interested  Deering. 
It  was  a  slender,  supple,  well-kept  hand, 
browned  by  the  sun.  Her  maid's  dress 
was  becoming;  her  cap  merely  served 
to  invite  attention  to  her  golden-brown 
hair.  Her  coloring  left  nothing  for  the 
heart  to  desire,  and  her  brown  eyes 
called  immediately  for  a  second  glance. 
She  was  deft  and  quick;  her  graceful 
walk  in  itself  compelled  admiration.  As 
the  door  closed  upon  her,  Hood  bent  a 
look  of  inquiry  upon  his  brooding  com- 
panion. 

85 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Perhaps  she's  the  adorable — the  true, 
authentic  Pierrette,"  he  suggested. 

Deering  shook  his  head. 

"No;  the  other  girl  was  not  so  tall 
and  her  voice  was  different;  it  was  won- 
derfully sweet  and  full  of  laughter.  I 
couldn't  be  fooled  about  it." 

"There's  mystery  here — &  game  of 
some  kind.  Mark  the  swish  of  silken 
skirts;  unless  my  eyes  fail  me,  I  caught 
a  glimpse  of  silken  hose  as  she  flitted 
into  the  pantry." 

When  an  omelet  had  been  served  and 
the  coffee  poured  (she  poured  coffee 
charmingly !)  Hood  called  her  back  as 
she  was  about  to  leave  them. 

:'Two  men  should  never  be  allowed  to 
eat  alone.     If  your  mistress  is  not  re- 
turning at  once,  will  you  not  do  us  the 
honor  to  sit  down  with  us?" 
86 


"Thank  you,  sir,"  she  said,  biting  her 
lip  to  conceal  a  smile. 

Deering  was  on  his  feet  at  once  and 
drew  out  the  third  chair,  which  she  ac- 
cepted without  debate.  She  composedly 
folded  her  arms  on  the  edge  of  the  table 
as  though  she  were  in  nowise  violating 
the  rules  set  down  for  the  guidance  of 
waitresses.  Hood,  finding  the  situation 
to  his  taste,  blithely  assumed  the  lead 
in  the  conversation. 

"It  is  perfectly  proper  for  you  to  join 
us  at  table,"  he  remarked,  "but  formal 
introductions  would  not  be  in  keeping. 
Still,  your  employer  doubtless  has  some 
familiar  name  for  you,  and  you  might 
with  propriety  tell  us  what  it  is,  so  we 
won't  need  to  attract  your  attention  by 
employing  the  vulgar  'Say'  or  'Listen' !" 

"My  mistress  calls  me  Babette,"  she 
87 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

answered,   her   lashes   drooping   becom- 
ingly. 

"Perfect!"  cried  Hood  ecstatically. 
"And  we  are  two  outlaws  whose  names 
it  is  more  discreet  for  us  to  withhold, 
even  if  it  were  proper  to  exchange  names 
with  a  mere  housemaid." 

Deering  winced;  it  was  indecent  in 
Hood  to  treat  her  as  though  she  were  a 
housemaid  when  so  obviously  she  was  not. 

"My  friend  doesn't  mean  to  be  rude," 
he  explained;  "the  morning  air  always 
makes  him  a  little  delirious." 

"I  hope  I  know  my  place,"  the  girl 
replied,  "and  I'm  sure  you  gentlemen 
mean  to  be  kind." 

'You  needn't  count  the  spoons  after 
we  leave,"  said  Hood;  "I  assure  you  we 
have  no  professional  designs  on  the 
house." 

88 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Thank  you,  sir.  Of  course,  if  you 
stole  anything,  it  would  be  taken  out  of 
my  wages." 

Deering's  interest  in  her  increased. 

She  rested  her  chin  on  her  hand  just 
as  his  sister  often  did  when  they  lingered 
together  at  table.  He  was  a  good  brother 
and  Constance  was  his  standard.  He 
was  sure  that  Constance  would  like 
Pierrette's  maid.  He  resented  Hood's 
patronizing  attitude  toward  the  girl,  but 
Hood's  spirits  were  soaring  and  there 
was  no  checking  him. 

"Babette,"  he  began,  "I'm  going  to 
trouble  you  with  a  question,  not  doubt- 
ing you  will  understand  that  my  motives 
are  those  of  a  philosopher  whose  whole 
life  has  been  devoted  to  the  study  of 
the  human  race.  May  I  ask  you  to 
state  in  all  sincerity  whether  you  con- 
89 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

sider  apple  sauce  the  essential  accom- 
paniment of  roast  duck  ?  " 

"I  do  not;  nor  do  I  care  for  jelly  with 
venison,"  she  answered  readily. 

"Admirable!  You  are  clearly  no 
child  of  convention  but  an  independent 
thinker !  May  I  smoke  ?  Thanks ! " 

He  drew  out  his  pipe  and  turned 
beaming  to  the  glowering  Deering. 

"There,  my  boy!  Babette  is  one  of 
us — one  of  the  great  company  of  the 
stars!  Wonderful,  how  you  find  them 
at  every  turn !  Babette,  my  sister,  I 
salute  you !" 

She  smiled  and  turned  toward  Deer- 
ing. 

"Are  you,  too,  one  of  the  Comrades 
of  Perpetual  Youth?"  she  inquired 
gravely. 

"I  am,"  Deering  declared  heartily, 
90 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

and  they  smiled  at  each  other;  "but 
I'm  only  a  novice — a  brother  of  the 
second  class." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"There  can  be  no  question  of  classes 
in  the  great  comradeship — either  we  are 
or  we  are  not." 

"Well  spoken!"  Hood  assented, 
pushing  back  his  chair  and  crossing  his 
legs  comfortably. 

"And  you — do  you  and  Pierrette  think 
about  things  the  same  way?"  Deering 
asked. 

"We  do — by  not  thinking,"  Babette 
replied.  "Thinking  among  the  com- 
rades is  forbidden,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"Absolutely,"  Hood  affirmed.  "Our 
young  brother  here  is  still  a  little  weak  in 
the  faith,  but  he's  taking  to  it  splen- 
didly." 

91 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"I'm  new  myself,"  Babette  confessed. 

"You're  letter-perfect  in  the  part," 
said  Hood.  "Perhaps  you  were  driven 
to  it?  Don't  answer  if  you  would  be 
embarrassed  by  a  confession." 

The  girl  pondered  a  moment;  her 
face  grew  grave,  and  she  played  ner- 
vously with  the  sugar-tongs. 

"A  man  loved  me  and  I  sent  him 
away,  and  was  sorry!"  The  last  words 
fell  from  her  lips  falteringly. 

"He  will  come  back — if  he  is  worthy 
of  one  of  the  comradeship,"  said  Hood 
consolingly.  "Even  now  he  may  be 
searching  for  you." 

"I  was  unkind  to  him;    I  was  very 
hard  on  him !     And  I've  been  afraid— 
sometimes — that  I  should  never  see  him 
again." 

Deering   thought   he   saw   a   glint   of 
02 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

tears  in  her  eyes.     She  rose  hastily  and 
asked  with  a  wavering  smile: 

"If  there's  nothing  further ! 

"Not  food — if  you  mean  that,"  said 
Hood. 

"But  about  Pierrette!"  Deering  ex- 
claimed despairingly.  "If  she's  likely 
to  come,  we  must  wait  for  her." 

"I  rather  advise  you  against  it,"  the 
girl  answered.  "I  have  no  idea  when 
she  will  come  back." 

They  rose  instinctively  as  she  passed 
out.  The  door  fanned  a  moment  and 
was  still. 

"Well?"  demanded  Deering  ironically. 

"Please  don't  speak  to  me  in  that 
tone,"  responded  Hood.  'This  was  your 
breakfast,  not  mine;  you  needn't  scold 
me  if  it  didn't  go  to  suit  you !  Ah,  what 
have  we  here !" 

93 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

He  had  drawn  back  a  curtain  at  one 
end  of  the  dining-room,  disclosing  a 
studio  beyond.  It  was  evidently  a  prac- 
tical workshop  and  bore  traces  of  recent 
use.  Deering  passed  him  and  strode 
toward  an  easel  that  supported  a  can- 
vas on  which  the  paint  was  still  wet. 
He  cried  out  in  astonishment: 

"That's  the  moon  girl — that's  the 
girl  I  talked  to  last  night — clown  clothes 
and  all !  She's  sitting  on  the  wall  there 
just  as  I  found  her." 

"A  sophisticated  brush;   no  amateur's 
job,"  Hood  muttered,  squinting  at  the 
canvas.     "Seems  to  me  I've  seen  that 
sort  of  thing  somewhere  lately — Panta- 
loon, Harlequin,  Columbine,  and  Clown 
—latest  fad  in  magazine  covers.     We're 
in  the  studio  of  a  popular  illustrator— 
there's  a  bunch  of  proofs  on  the  table, 
and  those  things  on  the  floor  are  from 
94 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  same  hand.  Signature  in  the  corner 
a  trifle  obscure — Mary  B.  Taylor." 

"She  may  be  Babette,"  Deering  sug- 
gested. "Suppose  I  call  her  and  ask?" 

Hood,  having  become  absorbed  in  a 
portfolio  of  pen-and-ink  sketches  of 
clowns,  harlequins,  and  columbines,  sub- 
jects in  which  the  owner  of  the  studio 
apparently  specialized,  paid  no  heed  to 
the  suggestion.  When  Deering  returned 
he  was  gazing  critically  at  a  sketch 
showing  a  dozen  clowns  executing  a 
spirited  dance  on  a  garden-wall. 

"She's  skipped!  There  isn't  a  soul 
on  the  place,"  Deering  announced  de- 
jectedly. 

"Not  at  all  surprising;  probably  gone 
to  join  her  model,  Pierrette.  And  we'd 
better  clear  out  before  we  learn  too 
much;  life  ceases  to  be  interesting  when 
you  begin  to  find  the  answers  to  riddles. 
95 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

Pierrette  is  probably  a  friend  of  the 
artist,  and  plays  model  for  the  fun  of 
it.  The  same  girl  is  repeated  over  and 
over  again  in  these  drawings — from 
which  I  argue  that  Pierrette  likes  to  pose 
and  Babette  enjoys  painting  her.  We 
mustn't  let  this  affect  the  general  il- 
lusion. The  next  turn  of  the  road  will 
doubtless  bring  us  to  something  that 
can't  be  explained  so  easily." 

"If  it  doesn't  bring  us  to  Pierrette — " 
began  Deering. 

"Tut!  None  of  that!  For  all  you 
know  it  may  bring  us  to  something  in- 
finitely better.  Remember  that  this  is 
mid-May,  and  anything  may  happen 
before  June  kindles  the  crimson  ram- 
blers. Let  us  be  off." 

Half-way  across  the  living-room  Deer- 
ing  stopped  suddenly. 
06 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"My  bag — my  suitcase!"  he  shouted. 

A  suitcase  it  was  beyond  question, 
placed  near  the  door  as  though  to  arrest 
their  attention.  Deering  pounced  upon 
it  eagerly  and  flung  it  open. 

"It's  all  right— the  stuff's  here!"  he 
cried  huskily. 

He  began  throwing  out  the  packets 
that  filled  the  case,  glancing  hurriedly 
at  the  seals.  Hood  lounged  near,  watch- 
ing him  languidly. 

"Most  unfortunate,"  he  remarked, 
noting  the  growing  satisfaction  on  Deer- 
ing's  face  as  he  continued  his  examina- 
tion. "Now  that  you've  found  that 
rubbish,  I  suppose  there'll  be  no  holding 
you;  you'll  go  back  to  listen  to  the 
ticker  just  when  I  had  begun  to  have 
some  hope  of  you  !" 

"It  was  Pierrette  that  took  it;  it 
97 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

couldn't  have  been  this  artist  girl," 
said  Deering,  excitedly  whipping  out 
his  penknife  and  slitting  one  of  the 
packages.  A  sheaf  of  blank  wrapping- 
paper  fluttered  to  the  floor.  His  face 
whitened  and  he  gave  a  cry  of  dismay. 
"Robbed!  Tricked!"  he  groaned,  star- 
ing at  Hood. 

Hood  picked  up  the  paper  and  scru- 
tinized the  seal. 

"S.  J.  Deering,  personal,"  he  read  in 
the  wax.  'You  don't  suppose  that 
girl  has  taken  the  trouble  to  forge  your 
father's  private  seal,  do  you?" 

Deering  feverishly  tore  open  the  other 
packages. 

"All  alike;   the  stuff's  gone!" 

Perspiration  beaded  his  forehead.  He 
stared  stupidly  at  the  worthless  paper. 

"You  ought  to  be  grateful,  son,"  said 
98 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

Hood;  "yesterday  you  thought  your- 
self a  thief — now  that  load's  off  your 
mind,  and  you  know  yourself  for  an 
honest  man.  General  rejoicing  seems  to 
be  in  order.  Looks  as  though  your 
parent  had  robbed  himself — rather  a 
piquant  situation,  I  must  say." 

He  carried  the  wrappers  to  the  win- 
dow-seat and  examined  them  more 
closely. 

"Seals  were  all  intact.  'The  Tyring- 
ham  estate,'  "  he  read  musingly.  "What 
do  you  make  of  that?"  he  asked  Deer- 
ing,  who  remained  crumpled  on  the  floor 
beside  the  suitcase. 

"That's  an  estate  father  was  exec- 
utor of — it's  a  long  story.  Old  man 
Tyringham  had  been  a  customer  of  his, 
and  left  a  will  that  made  it  impossible 
to  close  the  estate  till  his  son  had  reached 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

a  certain  age.  The  final  settlement  was 
to  be  made  this  summer.  But  my  God, 
Hood,  do  you  suppose  father — my  father 
could  be- 

"A  defaulter?"  Hood  supplied 
blandly. 

"It's  impossible!"  roared  Deering. 
"Father's  the  very  soul  of  honor." 

"I  dare  say  he  is,"  remarked  Hood 
carelessly.  "So  were  you  till  greed  led 
you  to  pilfer  your  governor's  strong 
box.  Let  us  be  tolerant  and  withhold 
judgment.  It's  enough  that  your  own 
skirts  are  clear.  Put  that  stuff  out  of 
sight;  we  must  flit." 

Hood  set  off  for  the  Barton  Arms  at  a 
brisk  pace,  talking  incessantly. 

"This  whole  business  is  bully  beyond 
my  highest  expectations.  By  George, 
it's  almost  too  good  to  be  true !  Critics 
100 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

of  the  drama  complain  that  the  aver- 
age amateur's  play  ends  with  every  act; 
but  so  far  in  our  adventures  every  in- 
cident leads  on  to  something  else.  Per- 
fectly immense  that  somebody  had 
beaten  you  to  the  bonds  !" 

Deering's  emotions  were  beyond  ut- 
terance. It  was  a  warm  morning,  and 
he  did  not  relish  carrying  the  suitcase, 
whose  recovery  had  plunged  him  into 
a  despair  darker  than  that  caused  by 
its  loss. 

At  a  turn  in  the  road  Hood  paused, 
struck  his  stick  heavily  upon  the  ground, 
and  drew  out  the  slipper.  He  whirled 
it  in  the  air  three  times  and  twice  it 
pointed  east.  He  thrust  it  back  into 
his  pocket  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction 
and  brushed  the  dust  from  his  hands. 

"Once  more  we  shall  follow  the  point- 
101 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ing  slipper.  Yesterday  it  led  us  to  the 
moon  girl,  the  bungalow,  and  the  suit- 
case; now  it  points  toward  the  mys- 
terious east,  and  no  telling  what  new 
delights!" 


102 


VI 

T  TOOD  and  Deering  found  Casso- 
-*•  •*•  wary  sitting  in  the  machine  in 
the  inn  yard  reading  a  newspaper;  this 
Hood  promptly  seized  and  scanned  with 
his  trained  eye. 

"Are  the  bags  aboard?  Ah,  I  see 
you  have  been  forehanded,  Cassowary!" 

Deering  went  to  the  inn  office  and 
came  out  with  a  number  of  telegrams 
which  he  read  as  he  slowly  crossed  the 
yard. 

"What  do  you  think  of  this?"  he 
asked  weakly.  The  yellow  sheets  shook 
in  his  hand  and  his  face  was  white.  "I 
wired  to  a  bank  and  a  club  in  San  Fran- 
cisco last  night,  and  they've  answered 
that  father  isn't  in  San  Francisco  and 
103 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

hasn't  been  there !  And  I  wired  the 
people  Constance  was  to  visit  at  Pasa- 
dena, and  they  don't  know  anything 
about  her.  Just  look  at  these  things!" 

"Sounds  like  straight  information,  but 
why  worry?"  remarked  Hood,  scanning 
the  telegrams. 

"But  why  should  father  lie  to  me? 
Why  should  Constance  say  she  was 
going  to  California  if  she  wasn't?" 

"My  dear  boy,  don't  ask  me  such 
questions!"  Hood  remarked  with  an 
injured  air.  :'You  are  guilty  of  the 
gravest  error  in  sending  telegrams  with- 
out consulting  me!  How  can  we  trust 
ourselves  to  Providence  if  you  persist 
in  sending  telegrams !  If  you  do  this 
again,  I  shall  be  seriously  displeased, 
and  you  mustn't  displease  Hood.  Hood 
is  very  ugly  in  his  wrath." 
104 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

Deering  was  at  the  point  of  tears. 
Hood  was  a  fool,  and  he  wished  to  tell 
him  so,  but  the  words  stuck  in  his 
throat. 

"We  move  eastward  toward  the  Con- 
necticut border,  Cassowary,"  Hood  or- 
dered and  pushed  Deering  into  the  ma- 
chine. 

Hood  was  as  merry  as  the  morning 
itself,  and  talked  ceaselessly  as  they 
rolled  through  the  country,  occasionally 
bidding  Cassowary  slow  down  and  give 
heed  to  his  discourse.  The  chauffeur 
listened  with  a  grin,  glancing  guardedly 
at  Deering,  who  stared  grimly  ahead 
with  an  unlighted  cigar  in  his  mouth. 
He  was  not  to  be  disturbed  in  his 
meditations  upon  the  blackness  of  the 
world  by  the  idiotic  prattle  of  a  mad- 
man. For  half  an  hour  Hood  had 
105 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

been  describing  his  adventures  with  a 
Dublin  University  man,  whose  humor 
he  pronounced  the  keenest  and  most 
satisfying  he  had  ever  known.  He  had 
gathered  from  this  person  an  immense 
fund  of  lore  relating  to  Irish  supersti- 
tions. 

"He  left  me  just  when  I  had  learned 
to  love  him,"  Hood  concluded  mourn- 
fully. "Became  fascinated  with  a 
patent-medicine  faker  we  struck  at  a 
county  fair  in  Indiana.  He  was  so 
tickled  over  the  way  the  long-haired 
doctor  played  the  banjo  and  jollied  the 
crowd  that  he  attached  himself  to  his 
caravan.  That  Irishman  was  one  of 
the  most  agreeable  men  to  be  in  jail 
with  that  I  ever  knew;  even  hardened 
murderers  would  cotton  to  him.  That 
spire  over  there  must  be  Addington. 
106 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

The  inn  is  nothing  to  boast  of,  but  we'd 
better  tackle  it." 

His  gayety  at  luncheon  once  more 
won  Deering  to  a  cheerier  view  of  his 
destiny.  Hood  called  for  the  proprietor 
and  lectured  him  roundly  for  offer- 
ing canned-blueberry  pie.  The  fact  that 
blueberries  were  out  of  season  made  no 
difference  to  the  outraged  Hood;  pie 
produced  from  a  can  was  a  gross  impo- 
sition. He  cited  legal  decisions  covering 
such  cases  and  intimated  that  he  might 
bring  proceedings.  As  the  innkeeper 
strode  angrily  away  an  elderly  woman 
at  a  neighboring  table  addressed  the 
dining-room  on  the  miserable  incompe- 
tence of  the  pastry-cooks  of  these  later 
times,  winding  up  by  thanking  Hood 
heartily  for  his  protest.  She  was  from 
Boston,  she  announced,  and  the  declin- 
107 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ing  intellectual  life  of  that  city  she  at- 
tributed to  the  deterioration  of  its  pie. 

Hood  rose  and  gravely  replied  in  a 
speech  of  five  minutes,  much  to  the  de- 
light of  two  girls  at  the  old  lady's  table. 
Hood  wrote  his  name  on  the  menu  card, 
and  bade  the  giggling  waitress  hand  it 
to  the  lady  from  Boston.  Her  young 
companions  conferred  for  a  moment, 
and  then  sent  back  a  card  on  which 
appeared  these  names  neatly  pencilled: 

MAID  MARIAN 

THE  QUEEN  OF  SHEBA 

THE  DUCHESS  OF  SUFFOLK  (MASS.) 

"My  dear  boy,"  Hood  remarked  to 
Deering  after  he  had  bowed  elaborately 
to  the  trio,  "I  tell  you  the  whole  world's 
caught  step  with  us !  That  lady  and  her 
two  nieces,  or  granddaughters  as  the 
case  may  be,  are  under  the  spell,  just 
108 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

as  you  and  I  are  and  Cassowary  and 
your  Pierrette  and  Babette  of  the 
bungalow.  If  only  you  could  yield 
yourself  to  the  May  spirit,  how  happy 
we  might  be!  Just  think  of  Cassowary; 
worth  a  million  dollars  and  eating  his 
lunch  with  the  chauffeurs  somewhere 
below  stairs  and  picking  up  much  in- 
formation that  he  will  impart  to  me 
later!  What  a  bully  world  this  would 
be  if  all  mankind  followed  my  system: 
stupid  conventions  all  broken-down;  the 
god  of  mirth  holding  his  sides  as  he 
contemplates  the  world  at  play !  You 
may  be  sure  that  old  lady  is  a  stickler 
for  the  proprieties  when  she's  at  home; 
widow  of  a  bishop  most  likely.  Those 
girls  have  been  carefully  reared,  you 
can  see  that,  but  full  of  the  spirit  of 
mischief.  The  moment  I  tackled  that 
109 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

stupid  innkeeper  about  his  monstrous 
pie  they  felt  the  drawing  of  the  mystic 
tie  that  binds  us  together  with  silken 
cords.  Very  likely  they,  like  us,  are 
in  search  of  adventure,  and  if  our  own 
affairs  were  less  urgent  I  should  cer- 
tainly cultivate  their  further  acquain- 
tance." 

The  lady  who  called  herself  the  Duch- 
ess of  Suffolk  (Mass.)  was  undoubtedly 
a  person  of  consequence  and  the  pos- 
sessor of  a  delightful  humor.  Deering 
assumed  that  she  and  her  companions 
were  abroad  upon  a  lark  of  some  kind 
and  were  enjoying  themselves  tremen- 
dously. Hood's  spell  renewed  its  grip 
upon  him.  It  occurred  to  him  that  the 
whole  world  might  have  been  touched 
with  the  May  madness,  and  that  the 
old  order  of  things  had  passed  forever. 
110 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

It  seemed  ages  since  he  had  watched 
the  ticker  in  his  father's  office.  As  they 
sat  smoking  on  the  veranda  the  Duchess 
of  Suffolk,  the  Queen  of  Sheba,  and 
Maid  Marian  came  out  and  entered  a 
big  car.  The  old  lady  bowed  with  dig- 
nity as  the  car  moved  off;  the  girls 
waved  their  hands. 

"Perfect!"  Hood  muttered  as  he  re- 
turned their  salutations.  "We  may 
never  meet  again  in  this  world,  but 
the  memory  of  this  encounter  will  abide 
with  me  forever." 

"I  don't  want  to  appear  fussy, 
Hood,"  Deering  began  good-naturedly, 
"but  would  you  mind  telling  me  what's 
next  on  your  programme?" 

"Not  in  the  slightest.  It's  just  oc- 
curred to  me  that  it  would  be  well  to 
dine  to-night  in  one  of  the  handsome 
ill 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

villas  scattered  through  these  hills.  Still 
following  the  slipper,  we  shall  choose 
one  somewhere  east  of  the  inn  and  pre- 
sent ourselves  confidently  at  the  front 
door.  Failing  there,  we  shall  assault  the 
postern  and,  perhaps,  enrich  our  knowl- 
edge of  life  with  the  servants'  gossip." 

"There  are  some  famous  kennels  in 
this  neighborhood,  and  I'd  hate  awfully 
to  have  an  Airedale  bite  a  hole  in  my 
leg,"  Deering  suggested. 

"My  dear  boy,  that's  the  tamest 
thing  that  could  happen  to  us !  My 
calves  are  covered  with  scars  from  dogs' 
teeth;  you  soon  get  hardened  to  canine 
ferocity.  We'll  take  a  tramp  for  an 
hour  to  work  the  fuzz  off  our  gray 
matter,  and  then  a  nap  to  freshen  us 
up  for  the  evening.  We  shall  learn 
much  to-night;  I'm  confident  of  that." 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

There  seemed  to  be  no  way  of  escap- 
ing Hood  or  changing  his  mind  once  he 
announced  a  decision.  The  programme 
was  put  through  exactly  as  he  had  in- 
dicated. The  important  thing  about 
the  tramp  was  that  Cassowary  accom- 
panied them  on  the  walk,  and  Deering 
found  him  both  agreeable  and  interest- 
ing. He  discoursed  of  polo,  last  year's 
Harvard- Yale  football  game,  and  ice- 
boating,  in  which  he  seemed  deeply  ex- 
perienced. 

Hood  left  them  to  look  for  hiero- 
glyphics on  a  barn  which  he  said  was 
a  veritable  palimpsest  of  cryptic  nota- 
tions of  roving  thieves. 

Cassowary's  manner  underwent  a 
marked  change  when  he  and  Deering 
were  alone. 

"If  you're  going  to  give  the  old  boy 
113 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  slip,"  he  said  earnestly,  "I  want 
you  to  give  me  notice.  I'm  not  going 
to  be  left  alone  with  him." 

Their  eyes  met  in  a  long  scrutiny; 
then  Deering  laughed. 

"I  don't  know  how  you  feel  about  it, 
but,  by  George,  I'm  afraid  to  shake  him !" 

"That's  exactly  my  fix,"  Cassowary 
answered.  "I  was  in  a  bad  way  when 
he  picked  me  up:  just  about  ready  to 
jump  off  a  high  building  and  let  it  go 
at  that.  And  I  must  say  he  does  make 
things  seem  brighter.  He  mustn't  see 
us  talking  off  key,  as  he'd  say,  but  I'd 
like  to  ask  you  this:  what's  he  running 
away  from?  That's  what  worries  me. 
What's  he  grabbing  newspapers  for  all 
the  time  and  slashing  out  ads  and  other 
queer  stuff?" 

'You've  got  me  there,"  Deering  re- 
114 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

plied  soberly.  "We  ran  into  some  men 
the  other  night  who  he  said  were  detec- 
tives looking  for  him,  but  it  didn't 
seem  to  worry  him  any." 

"There's  nothing  new  in  that.  We've 
struck  a  number  of  men  who  apparently 
were  looking  for  somebody,  and  he 
greatly  enjoys  chaffing  them.  If  he's 
really  a  crook,  he  wouldn't  be  exposing 
himself  to  arrest  as  he  does." 

Hood  was  now  returning  from  his 
investigations  of  the  barn,  and  as  he 
crossed  the  pasture  was  examining  a 
bunch  of  the  newspaper  clippings  with 
which  his  pockets  were  stuffed. 

:<You  needn't  be  afraid  of  getting 
into  trouble  with  him,"  Cassowary  re- 
marked admiringly.  "He  pulls  off 
things  you  wouldn't  think  could  be 
done.  He's  a  marvel,  that  man  !" 
115 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Old  Bill  Fogarty's  been  ripping  into 
the  country  stores  in  these  parts,"  be- 
gan Hood  volubly;  "found  his  mark 
on  the  barn,  all  right.  Amusing  cuss, 
Fogarty.  Sawed  himself  out  of  most 
of  the  jails  between  here  and  Bangor. 
We'll  probably  meet  up  with  him  some- 
where. It's  about  time  to  go  back  for 
that  snooze,  boys.  To  the  road  again !" 

He  strode  off  singing,  in  a  very  good 
tenor  voice,  snatches  from  Italian  operas, 
and  his  pace  was  so  rapid  that  his  com- 
panions were  hard  pressed  to  keep  up 
with  him. 


116 


VII 

T71VENING  dress  was  becoming  to 
^-*  Hood,  enhancing  the  distinction 
which  his  rough  corduroys  never  wholly 
obscured.  He  surveyed  Deering  crit- 
ically, gave  a  twist  to  his  tie,  and  said 
it  was  time  to  be  off.  As  they  drove 
slowly  through  the  country  he  discussed 
the  various  houses  they  passed,  spec- 
ulating as  to  the  entertainment  they 
offered.  He  finally  ordered  Cassowary 
to  stop  at  the  entrance  to  an  imposing 
estate,  where  a  large  colonial  mansion 
stood  some  distance  from  the  highway. 

"This   strikes   me   as   promising,"   he 

remarked,  rising  in  the  car  and  craning 

his  neck  to  gain  a  view  of  the  house 

through  the  shrubbery.    "Drive  in,  Cas- 

117 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

sowary,  and  stand  by  with  the  car  till 
you  see  whether  we  have  to  run  for  it." 

He  gave  the  electric  annunciator  a 
prolonged  push,  and  as  a  butler  opened 
the  door  advanced  into  the  hall  with 
his  most  authoritative  air. 

"Mr.  Hood  and  Mr.  Tuck.  I  trust  I 
correctly  understood  that  we  dine  at 
seven."  The  man  eyed  them  with  sur- 
prise but  took  their  coats  and  hats. 
"We  are  expected.  Please  announce 
us  immediately." 

Deering  followed  him  bewilderedly 
into  the  drawing-room  and  planted  him- 
self close  to  the  door. 

"Assurance,  my  dear  boy,  conquers 
all  things,"  Hood  declaimed.  '  This 
stuff  looks  like  real  Chippendale,  and 
the  rugs  seem  to  be  genuine."  He 
sniffed  contemptuously  as  he  posed  be- 
118 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

fore  a  long  mirror  for  a  final  inspection 
of  his  raiment.  "It  always  pains  me 
to  detect  the  odor  of  boiled  vegetables 
when  I  enter  a  strange  house.  Arch- 
itects tell  me  that  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  prevent — 

A  woman's  figure  flashed  in  the  mirror 
beside  him,  and  he  whirled  round  and 
bowed  from  the  hips. 

"I  trust  you  are  not  so  lacking  in  the 
sense  of  hospitality  that  you  find  your- 
self considering  means  of  ejecting  us. 
My  comrade  and  I  are  weary  from  a 
long  journey." 

Turning  quickly,  her  gaze  fell  upon 
Deering,  who  was  stealing  on  tiptoe 
toward  the  door. 

"Halt!"  commanded  Hood. 

Deering  paused  and  sheepishly  faced 
his  hostess. 

119 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

She  was  a  small,  trim,  graceful  woman, 
of  the  type  that  greets  middle  life  smil- 
ingly and  with  no  fear  of  what  may  lie 
beyond.  Her  dark  hair  had  whitened, 
but  her  rosy  cheeks  belied  its  insinua- 
tions. She  viewed  Deering  with  frank 
curiosity,  but  with  no  indication  of  alarm. 
She  was  not  a  woman  one  would  con- 
sciously annoy,  and  Deering's  face  burned 
as  he  felt  her  eyes  inspecting  him  from 
head  to  foot.  He  had  never  before 
been  so  heartily  ashamed  of  himself; 
once  out  of  this  scrape,  he  meant  to 
escape  from  Hood  and  lead  a  circum- 
spect, orderly  life. 

"Which  is  Hood  and  which  is  Tuck?" 
the  woman  asked  with  a  faint  smile. 

"The  friar  is  the  gentleman  standing 
on  one  foot  at  your  right,"  Hood  an- 
swered. "Conscious  of  my  unworthi- 

120 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ness,  I  plead  guilty  to  being  Hood- 
Hood  the  hobo  delectable,  the  tramp  in- 
comprehensible !" 

"Incomprehensible,"  she  repeated; 
"you  strike  me  as  altogether  obvious." 

:'You  never  made  a  greater  mistake," 
Hood  returned  with  asperity.  "But  the 
question  that  now  agitates  us  is  simply 
this:  do  we  eat  or  do  we  not?" 

Deering  looked  longingly  at  a  chair 
with  which  he  felt  strongly  impelled  to 
brain  his  suave,  unruffled  companion. 
Hood  apparently  was  hardened  to  such 
encounters,  and  stood  his  ground  un- 
flinchingly. All  Deering's  instincts  of 
chivalry  were  roused  by  the  little 
woman,  who  had  every  reason  for  turn- 
ing them  out  of  doors.  He  resolved  to 
make  it  easy  for  her  to  do  so. 

"I  beg  your  pardon — "  he  faltered. 
121 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

Hood  signalled  to  him  furiously  be- 
hind her  back  to  maintain  silence. 

"No  apology  would  be  adequate,"  she 
remarked  with  dignity.  "We'd  better 
drop  that  and  consider  your  errand  on 
its  strict  merits." 

"Admirably  said,  madam,"  Hood  re- 
joined readily.  "We  ask  nothing  of  you 
but  seats  at  your  table  and  the  favor  of 
a  little  wholesome  and  stimulating  con- 
versation, which  I  refuse  to  believe  you 
capable  of  denying  us." 

A  clock  somewhere  began  to  boom 
seven.  She  waited  for  the  last  stroke 
to  die  away. 

"I  make  it  a  rule  never  to  deny  food 
to  any  applicant,  no  matter  how  un- 
worthy. You  may  remain." 

Deering  had  hardly  adjusted  himself 
to  this  when  an  old  gentleman  entered 
122 


O     3 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  room,  and  with  only  the  most  casual 
glance  at  the  two  pilgrims  walked  to 
the  grand  piano,  shook  back  his  cuffs, 
and  began  playing  Mendelssohn's 
"Spring  Song,"  as  though  that  partic- 
ular melody  were  the  one  great  passion 
of  his  life.  When  he  had  concluded  he 
rose  and  shook  down  his  cuffs. 

"If  that  isn't  music,"  he  demanded, 
walking  up  to  the  amazed  Deering,  who 
still  clung  to  his  post  by  the  door,  "what 
is  it?  Answer  me  that !" 

:'You  played  it  perfectly,"  Deering 
stammered. 

"And  you,"  he  demanded,  whirling 
upon  Hood,  "what  have  you  to  say, 
sir?" 

"The  great  master  himself  would  have 
envied  your  touch,"  Hood  replied. 

The  old  gentleman  glared.  "Rot!" 
123 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

he  ejaculated;  and  then,  turning  to  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  he  asked:  "Do 
these  ruffians  dine  with  us?" 

"They    seem    about    to    do    us    that 
honor.     My   father,   Mr.   Hood,   and— 
Mr.  Tuck.    Shall  we  go  out  to  dinner?" 

The  gentleman  she  had  introduced  as 
her  father  glared  again — a  separate  glare 
for  each — and,  advancing  with  a  ridic- 
ulous strut,  gave  the  lady  his  arm. 

In  the  hall  Hood  intercepted  Deering 
in  the  act  of  effecting  egress  by  way  of 
the  front  door.  His  fingers  dug  deeply 
into  his  nervous  companion's  arm  as 
he  dragged  him  along,  talking  in  his 
characteristic  vein: 

"My   dear  Tuck,   it's   a   pleasure   to 

find  ourselves  at  last  in  a  home  whose 

appointments    speak    for   breeding    and 

taste.     The  portrait  on  our  right  bears 

124 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

all  the  marks  of  a  genuine  Copley. 
Madam,  may  I  inquire  whether  I  cor- 
rectly attribute  that  portrait  to  our 
great  American  master?" 

'You  are  quite  right,"  she  answered 
over  her  shoulder.  "The  subject  of 
the  portrait  is  my  great-great-grand- 
father." 

"My  dear  Tuck!"  cried  Hood  jubi- 
lantly, still  clutching  Deering's  arm, 
"fate  has  again  been  kind  to  us;  we 
are  among  folk  of  quality,  as  I  had 
already  guessed." 

The  dining-room  was  in  dark  oak; 
the  glow  from  concealed  burners  shed 
a  soft  light  upon  a  round  table. 

"You  will  sit  at  my  right,  Mr.  Hood, 
and  Mr.  Tuck  by  my  father  on  the 
other  side." 

Deering  pinched  himself  to  make  sure 
125 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

he  was  awake.  The  next  instant  the 
room  whirled,  and  he  clutched  the  back 
of  his  chair  for  support.  A  girl  came 
into  the  room  and  walked  quickly  to 
the  seat  beside  him. 

"Mr  Hood  and  Mr.  Tuck,  my 
daughter ' 

She  hesitated,  and  the  girl  laughingly 
ejaculated :  "  Pierrette ! " 

"Sit  down,  won't  you,  please,"  said 
the  little  lady;  but  Deering  stood  star- 
ing open-mouthed  at  the  girl. 

Beyond  question,  she  was  the  girl  of 
the  Little  Dipper;  there  was  no  mis- 
taking her.  At  this  point  the  old  gen- 
tleman afforded  diversion  by  rising  and 
bowing  first  to  Hood  and  then  to  Deer- 
ing. 

"I  am  Pantaloon,"  he  said.  "My 
daughter  is  Columbine,  as  you  may  have 
guessed." 

126 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"It's  very  nice  to  see  you  again," 
Pierrette  remarked  to  Deering;  "but, 
of  course,  I  didn't  know  you  would  be 
here.  How  goes  the  burgling?" 

"I — er — haven't  got  started  yet.  I 
find  it  a  little  difficult — 

"I'm  afraid  you're  not  getting  much 
fun  out  of  the  adventurous  life,"  she 
suggested,  noting  the  wild  look  in  his 
eyes. 

"I  don't  understand  things,  that's 
all,"  he  confessed,  "but  I  think  I'm 
going  to  like  it." 

"You  find  it  a  little  too  full  of  sur- 
prises? Oh,  we  all  do  at  first!  You 
see  grandfather  is  seventy,  and  he  never 
grew  up,  and  mamma  is  just  like  him. 
And  I—  She  shrugged  her  shoulders 
and  flashed  a  smile  at  her  grandparent. 

"You     are     wonderful — bewildering," 
Deering  stammered. 
127 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

The  old  gentleman  was  inveighing  at 
Hood  upon  America's  lack  of  mirth; 
the  American  people  had  utterly  lost 
their  capacity  for  laughter,  the  old  man 
averred.  Deering's  fork  beat  a  lively 
tattoo  on  his  plate  as  he  attacked  his 
caviar. 

And  then  another  girl  entered  and 
walked  to  the  remaining  vacant  place 
opposite  him. 

"Smeraldina,"  murmured  the  mistress 
of  the  house,  glancing  round  the  table, 
and  calmly  finishing  a  remark  the  girl's 
entrance  had  interrupted. 

Deering's  last  hold  upon  sanity  slowly 
relaxed.  Unless  his  wits  were  entirely 
gone,  he  was  facing  his  sister  Constance. 
She  wore  a  dark  gown,  with  white  collar 
and  cuffs,  and  her  manner  was  marked 
by  the  restraint  of  an  upper  servant  of 
1*8 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

some  sort  who  sits  at  the  family  table 
by  sufferance.  He  was  about  to  gasp 
out  her  name  when  she  met  his  eyes 
with  a  glinty  stare  and  a  quick  shake 
of  the  head.  Then  Pierrette  addressed 
a  remark  to  her — kindly  meant  to  re- 
lieve her  embarrassment — referring  to 
a  walk  over  the  hills  they  had  taken  to- 
gether that  afternoon. 

"Ah,  Smeraldina!"  cried  Pantaloon, 
"how  is  that  last  chapter?  Columbine 
refuses  to  show  me  any  more  of  the  book 
until  it  is  finished.  I  look  to  you  to  make 
a  duplicate  for  my  private  perusal." 

Here  was  light  of  a  sort  upon  the 
strange  household;  its  mistress  was  a 
writer  of  books;  Constance  was  her 
secretary;  but  the  effort  to  explain 
how  his  sister  came  to  be  masquerading 
in  such  a  role  left  him  doddering,  and 
129 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

that  she  should  refuse  to  recognize  him — 
her  own  brother ! 

"If  that  new  book  is  hah*  as  good  as 
'The  Madness  of  May/  "  Pantaloon  was 
saying,  "I  shall  not  be  disappointed." 

"Oh,  it's  much  better;  infinitely 
better!"  Constance  declared  warmly. 

''Tuck,  do  you  realize  we  are  in  the 
presence  of  greatness?"  cried  Hood. 
Then,  turning  to  Columbine:  'The 
author  will  please  accept  my  heartiest 
congratulations !" 

"Thank  you  kindly,"  replied  the 
hostess.  "I'm  fortunate  in  my  secre- 
tary. Smeraldina  is  my  fifth,  and  the 
first  who  ever  made  a  suggestion  that 
was  of  the  slightest  use.  The  others 
had  no  imagination;  they  all  objected 
to  being  called  Smeraldina,  and  one  of 
them  was  named  Smith  ! " 

"I'm  afraid  I'm  the  first  who  ever 
130 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

had  the  impertinence  to  suggest  any- 
thing," Constance  answered  humbly. 

This  was  not  the  sister  Deering  had 
known  in  his  old  life  before  he  fell  vic- 
tim to  the  prevailing  May  madness. 
She  was  in  servitude  and  evidently  try- 
ing to  make  the  best  of  it.  She  had  been 
the  jolliest,  the  most  high-spirited  of 
girls,  and  to  find  her  now  meekly  act- 
ing as  amanuensis  to  a  lady  whose  very 
name  he  didn't  know  sent  his  imagina- 
tion stumbling  through  the  blindest  of 
dark  alleys. 

Only  the  near  presence  of  Pierrette 
and  her  perfect  composure  and  good- 
nature checked  his  inclination  to  stand 
up  and  shout  to  relieve  his  feelings. 

"I  hope  you  don't  mind  my  not  turn- 
ing up  for  breakfast,"  she  remarked  in 
her  low,  bell-like  tones. 

Deering's  hopes  rose.  That  break- 
131 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

fast  at  the  bungalow  seemed  the  one 
tangible  incident  of  his  twenty-four 
hours  in  Hood's  company  and,  perhaps, 
if  he  let  her  take  the  lead,  he  might 
find  himself  on  solid  earth  again. 

"I'd  been  week-ending  with  Babette; 
she's  an  artist,  you  know,  and  I'm 
posing  for  another  of  mamma's  heroines. 
Babette  got  me  up  at  daylight  to  pose 
for  the  last  picture  and  then — I  skipped 
and  left  her  to  manage  the  breakfast." 

Her  laugh  as  she  said  this  established 
her  identity  beyond  question.  For  a 
moment  the  thought  of  the  packages  of 
worthless  wrapping-paper  he  had  found 
in  his  suitcase  chilled  his  happiness  in 
finding  her  again;  but  it  had  not  been 
her  fault;  the  unbroken  seals  fully  es- 
tablished her  innocence. 

'You  understand,  of  course,  that  it's 
132 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

a  dark  secret  that  mother  writes.  She 
had  scribbled  for  her  own  amusement 
all  her  life,  and  published  'The  Madness 
of  May'  just  to  see  what  the  public 
would  do  to  it." 

"I  understand  that  it's  immensely 
amusing,"  remarked  Deering,  thrilling 
as  she  turned  toward  him. 

"Oh,  you  haven't  read  it!"  she  cried. 
"Mamma,  Mr.  Tuck  hasn't  read  your 
book." 

"My  young  friend  is  just  beginning 
his  education,"  interposed  Hood.  "I 
unhesitatingly  pronounce  'The  Madness 
of  May'  a  classic — something  the  tired 
world  has  been  awaiting  for  years!" 

"Right!"  cried  Pantaloon.  "You  are 
quite  right,  sir.  'The  Madness  of  May' 
isn't  a  novel,  it's  a  text-book  on  happi- 
ness !" 

133 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Truer  words  were  never  spoken!" 
exclaimed  Hood  with  enthusiasm. 

"Do  you  know,"  began  Deering,  when 
it  was  possible  to  address  Pierrette  di- 
rectly again,  "I  don't  believe  I  was 
built  for  this  life.  I  find  myself  check- 
ing off  the  alphabet  on  my  fingers  every 
few  minutes  to  see  if  I  have  gone  plumb 
mad!" 

She  bent  toward  him  with  entreaty 
in  her  eyes.  He  observed  that  they 
were  brown  eyes !  In  the  starlight  he 
had  been  unable  to  judge  of  their  color, 
and  he  was  chagrined  that  he  hadn't 
guessed  at  that  first  interview  that  she 
was  a  brown-eyed  girl.  Only  a  brown- 
eyed  girl  would  have  hung  a  moon  in  a 
tree !  Brown  eyes  are  immensely  elo- 
quent of  all  manner  of  pleasant  things- 
such  as  mischief,  mirth,  and  dreams. 
134 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

Moreover,  brown  eyes  are  so  highly 
sensitized  that  they  receive  and  trans- 
mit messages  in  the  most  secret  of 
ciphers,  and  yet  always  with  circumspec- 
tion. He  was  perfectly  satisfied  with 
Pierrette's  eyes  and  relieved  that  they 
were  not  blue,  for  blue  eyes  may  be  cold, 
and  the  finest  of  black  eyes  are  some- 
times dull.  Gray  eyes  alone — misty, 
fathomless  gray  eyes — share  imagination 
with  brown  ones.  But  neither  a  blue- 
eyed  nor  a  black-eyed  nor  a  gray-eyed 
Pierrette  was  to  be  thought  of.  Pier- 
rette's eyes  were  brown,  as  he  should 
have  known,  and  what  she  was  saying 
to  him  was  just  what  he  should  have 
expected  once  the  color  of  her  eyes  had 
been  determined. 

"Please  don't!     You  must  never  try 
to    understand    things    like    this !      You 
135 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

see  grandpa  and  mamma  love  larking, 
and  this  is  a  lark.  We're  always  lark- 
ing, you  know." 

Hood's  voice  rose  commandingly : 

"Once  when  I  was  in  jail  in  Utica ' 

Deering  regretted  his  shortness  of  leg 
that  made  it  impossible  to  kick  his  er- 
ratic companion  under  the  table.  But 
a  chorus  of  approval  greeted  this  prom- 
ising opening,  and  Hood  continued  re- 
lating with  much  detail  the  manner  in 
which  he  had  once  been  incarcerated 
in  company  with  a  pickpocket  whose 
accomplishments  and  engaging  person- 
ality he  described  with  gusto.  There 
was  no  denying  that  Hood  talked  well, 
and  the  strict  attention  he  was  receiving 
evoked  his  best  efforts. 

Deering,  covertly  glancing  at  his  sister, 
found  that  she  too  hung  upon  Hood's 
199 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

words.  Her  presence  in  the  house  still 
presented  an  enigma  with  which  his 
imagination  struggled  futilely,  but  no 
opportunity  seemed  likely  to  offer  for  an 
exchange  of  confidences. 

Constance  was  a  thoroughbred  and 
played  her  part  flawlessly.  Her  treat- 
ment by  her  employer  left  nothing  to 
be  desired;  the  amusing  little  grand- 
father appealed  to  her  now  and  then 
with  unmistakable  liking,  and  the  smiles 
that  passed  between  her  and  Pierrette 
were  evidence  of  the  friendliest  rela- 
tionship. 

The  dinner  was  served  in  a  leisurely 
fashion  that  encouraged  talk,  and  Deer- 
ing  availed  himself  of  every  chance  for  a 
tete-a-tete  with  Pierrette.  She  graciously 
came  down  out  of  the  clouds  and  con- 
versed of  things  that  were  within  his 
137 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

comprehension — of  golf  and  polo  for  ex- 
ample— and  then  passed  into  the  un- 
known again.  But  in  no  way  did  she 
so  much  as  hint  at  her  identity.  When 
she  referred  to  her  mother  or  grand- 
father she  employed  the  pseudonyms  by 
which  he  already  knew  them.  While 
they  were  on  the  subject  of  polo  he 
asked  her  if  she  had  witnessed  a  certain 
match. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  was  there!"  she  replied. 
"And,  of  course,  I  saw  you;  you  were 
the  star  performer.  At  tea  afterward 
I  saw  you  again,  surrounded  by  ad- 
mirers." She  laughed  at  his  befuddle- 
ment.  "But  it's  against  all  the  rules  to 
try  to  unmask  me !  Of  course,  I  know 
you,  but  maybe  you  will  never  know 
me!" 

"I  don't  believe  you  are  cruel  enough 
138 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

to  prolong  my  agony  forever !  I  can't 
stand  this  much  longer!" 

"Perhaps  some  day,"  she  answered 
quietly  and  meeting  his  eager  gaze 
steadily,  "we  shall  meet  just  as  the 
people  of  the  world  meet,  and  then 
maybe  you  won't  like  me  at  all!" 

"After  this  the  world  will  never  be 
the  same  planet  again.  Hereafter  my 
business  will  be  to  follow  you 

She  broke  in  laughingly,  "even  to 
the  Little  Dipper?" 

"Even  to  the  farthest  star!"  he  an- 
swered. 

After  coffee  had  been  served  in  the 
drawing-room,  Hood,  again  dominating 
the  company  (much  to  Deering's  dis- 
gust), suggested  music.  Pierrette  con- 
tributed a  flashing,  golden  Chopin  waltz 
and  Pantaloon  Schubert's  "Serenade," 
139 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

which  he  played  atrociously,  whereupon 
Hood  announced  that  he  would  sing  a 
Scotch  ballad,  which  he  proceeded  to 
do  surprisingly  well.  The  evening  could 
not  last  forever,  and  Deering  chafed  at 
his  inability  to  detach  Pierrette  from 
the  piano;  but  she  was  most  provokingly 
submissive  to  Hood's  demand  that  the 
music  continue.  Deering  had  protested 
that  he  didn't  sing;  he  hated  himself 
for  not  singing ! 

He  fidgeted  awhile;  then,  finding 
the  others  fully  preoccupied  with  their 
musical  experiments,  quietly  left  the 
drawing-room.  It  had  occurred  to  him 
that  Constance,  who  had  disappeared 
when  they  left  the  table,  might  be  seek- 
ing a  chance  to  speak  to  him  and  he 
strolled  through  the  library  (a  large 
room  with  books  crowding  to  the  ceil- 
140 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ing)  to  a  glass  door  opening  into  a  con- 
servatory, which  was  dark  save  for  the 
light  from  the  library.  He  was  about 
to  turn  away  when  an  outer  door  opened 
furtively  and  Cassowary  stepped  in  from 
the  grounds.  The  chauffeur  glanced 
about  nervously  as  though  anxious  to 
avoid  detection, 

As  Deering  watched  him  a  shadow 
darted  by,  and  his  sister — unmistakably 
Constance  in  the  dark  gown  with  its 
white  collar  and  cuffs  that  she  had  worn 
at  dinner — moved  swiftly  toward  the 
chauffeur.  She  gave  him  both  hands; 
he  kissed  her  eagerly;  then  they  began 
talking  earnestly.  For  several  minutes 
Deering  heard  the  blurred  murmur  of 
rapid  question  and  reply;  then,  evi- 
dently disturbed  by  an  outburst  of  merri- 
ment from  the  drawing-room,  the  two 
141 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

parted  with  another  hand-clasp  and  kiss, 
and  Cassowary  darted  through  the  outer 
door. 

Constance  waited  a  moment,  as  though 
to  compose  herself,  and  then  began  re- 
tracing her  steps  down  the  conservatory 
aisle.  As  she  passed  his  hiding-place 
Deering  stepped  out  and  seized  her 
arm. 

"So  this  is  what's  in  the  wind,  is  it?" 
he  demanded  roughly.  "I  suppose  you 
don't  know  that  that  man's  a  bad  lot, 
a  worthless  fellow  Hood  picked  up  in 
the  hope  of  reforming  him !  For  all  I 
know  he  may  be  the  chauffeur  he  pre- 
tends to  be!" 

She  freed  herself  and  her  eyes  flashed 
angrily. 

14  You  don't  know  what  you're  say- 
ing !  That  man  is  a  gentleman,  and  if 
142 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

he  went  to  pieces  for  a  while  it  was  my 
fault.  I  met  him  at  the  Drakes'  last 
year  when  you  were  away  hunting  in 
Canada.  He  came  to  our  house  after- 
ward, but  for  some  reason  father  took 
one  of  his  strong  dislikes  to  him,  and 
forbade  my  seeing  him  again.  I  knew 
he  was  with  this  man  Hood,  and  when 
I  left  the  table  awhile  ago  I  met  him 
outside  the  servants'  dining-room  and 
told  him  I  would  talk  to  him  here." 

"What  does  he  call  himself?"  Deering 
asked. 

"Torrence  is  the  name  the  Drakes 
gave  him,"  she  answered  with  faint 
irony.  "He's  a  ranchman  in  Wyoming 
and  was  in  Bob  Drake's  class  in  college." 

He  knew  perfectly  well  that  the 
Drakes  were  not  people  likely  to  coun- 
tenance an  impostor.  His  first  instinct 
143 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

had  been  to  protect  his  sister  from  an 
unknown  scamp,  and  he  was  sorry  that 
he  had  spoken  to  her  so  roughly.  Her 
distress  and  anxiety  were  apparent,  and 
he  was  filled  with  pity  for  her.  Since 
childhood  they  had  been  the  best  of 
pals,  and  if  she  loved  a  man  who  was 
worthy  of  her  he  would  aid  the  affair 
in  every  way  possible.  He  was  surprised 
by  the  abruptness  with  which  she  stepped 
close  to  him  and  laid  her  hand  on  his 
arm. 

"Billy,  who  is  Hood?"  she  whispered. 

"I  don't  know!"  he  ejaculated,  and 
then  as  she  eyed  him  curiously  he  ex- 
plained hurriedly:  "I  was  in  an  awful 
mess  when  he  turned  up,  Connie.  I'd 
gone  into  a  copper  deal  with  Ned  Rans- 
comb  and  needed  more  money  to  help 
him  through  with  it.  I  put  in  all  I 
144 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

had  and  touched  one  of  father's  boxes 
at  the  bank  for  some  more  and  lost  it, 
or  didn't  lose  it;  God  knows  what  did 
become  of  it !  It  would  take  a  week  to 
tell  you  the  whole  story.  Ranscomb 
disappeared,  absolutely,  and  there  I  was  ! 
I  should  have  killed  myself  if  that  lunatic 
Hood  hadn't  turned  up  and  hypnotized 
me.  But  what — what—  (he  fairly 
choked  with  the  question),  "in  heaven's 
name  are  you  doing  here  ?  Why  did  you 
cut  out  California?  I  tell  you,  Connie, 
if  I'm  not  crazy  everybody  else  is !  I 
nearly  fainted  when  you  came  into  the 
dining-room." 

Constance  smiled  at  his  despair,  but 
hurried  on  with  explanations: 

"We  can't  talk  here,  but  I  can  clear 
up  a  few  things.  Father  read  that 
woman's  book,  and  it  went  to  his 
145 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

head.  Yes,"  she  added  as  Deering 
groaned  in  his  helplessness,  "father's  act- 
ing a  good  deal  like  those  people  in  the 
drawing-room.  He's  got  the  May  mad- 
ness, and  I'm  afraid  I've  got  a  touch  of 
it  myself!  Father  started  off  to  have 
adventures  like  the  people  in  that  book 
and  dragged  me  along  to  get  my  mind 
off  Tommy " 

"Tommy?" 

"Mr.  Torrence!" 

Billy  swallowed  this  with  a  gulp. 

"But,  Billy,"  Constance  continued 
seriously,  "there's  really  something  on 
father's  mind;  he  thinks  he's  looking  for 
somebody,  and  I'm  not  sure  whether  he 
is  or  not.  That's  how  I  come  to  be 
here.  He  made  me  answer  an  advertise- 
ment and  take  this  position  to  spy  on 
these  people." 

146 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"My  God!"  Deering  gasped,  "gone 
clean  mad,  the  whole  bunch  of  us.  Who 
the  deuce  are  these  lunatics  anyhow?" 

"I  don't  know,  Billy;  honestly  I 
don't !  You  know  nearly  as  much  about 
them  as  I  do.  Their  mail  goes  to  a 
bank  in  town,  and  I  met  my  employer 
at  a  lawyer's  office  in  Hartford.  Father 
suspects  something  and  made  me  do 
it,  so  I  might  watch  them.  The  mother 
and  daughter  have  been  abroad  a  great 
deal,  and  just  came  home  a  month  ago. 
I  never  saw  this  man  Hood  until  to- 
night. The  mother  and  daughter  and 
the  old  gentleman  call  each  other  by 
the  names  you  heard  at  the  table,  and 
the  books  in  the  library  are  marked 
with  half  a  dozen  names.  Even  the  sil- 
ver gives  no  clew.  I've  been  here  a 
week  and  only  one  person  has  come  to 
147 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  house"  (she  lowered  her  voice  to  a 
whisper),  "and  that  was  Ned  Ranscomb  !" 

He  clutched  her  hands,  and  the  words 
he  tried  to  utter  became  a  queer,  in- 
articulate gurgle  in  his  throat. 

"Ned  came  here  to  see  a  girl,"  she 
went  on:  "an  artist  who  made  the  pic- 
tures for  "The  Madness  of  May.'  He's 
quite  crazy  about  her.  I  did  get  that 
much  out  of  Pierrette.  This  artist's  a 
victim  of  the  madness  too,  and  seems 
to  be  leading  Ned  a  gay  dance!" 

"Took  my  two  hundred  thousand  and 
got  me  to  steal  two  more,"  he  groaned, 
"and  then  went  chasing  a  girl  all  over 
creation !  And  the  fool  always  bragged 
that  he  was  immune;  that  no  girl— 

"Another  victim  of  the  same  disease, 
that's  all,"  answered  Constance  with  a 
wry  smile. 

148 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Not  Ned;  not  Ranscomb !  That 
settles  it !  We've  all  gone  loony !" 

"Well,  even  so,  we  mustn't  be  caught 
here,"  said  Constance  with  decision  as 
the  music  ceased. 

"Tell  me,  quick,  where  can  I  find  the 
governor?"  Deering  demanded. 

"If  you  must  know,  Billy,"  she  re- 
plied, her  lips  quivering  with  mirth, 
"our  dear  parent  is  in  jail — in  jail ! 
Tommy  collected  those  glad  tidings  at 
the  garage." 

Having  launched  this  at  her  astounded 
brother,  she  pushed  him  from  her  and 
ran  away  through  the  conservatory. 


149 


VIII 

'TT1UCK,  my  boy,  you  should  culti- 
•*•  vate  the  art  of  music ! "  cried 
Hood  as  Deering  reappeared,  somewhat 
pale  but  resigned  to  an  unknown  fate, 
in  the  drawing-room.  "And  now  that 
ten  has  struck  we  must  be  on  our  way. 
Madam,  will  yen  ring  for  Cassowary, 
the  prince  of  chauffeurs,  as  we  must 
leave  your  hospitable  home  at  once?" 
He  began  making  his  adieus  with  the 
greatest  formality. 

"Mr.  Tuck,"  said  the  mistress  of  the 
house  as  Deering  gave  her  a  limp  hand, 
"you  have  conferred  the  greatest  honor 
upon  us.  Please  never  pass  our  door 
without  stopping." 

"  To-morrow,"    he    said,    turning    to 
150 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

Pierrette,  "I  shall  find  you  to-morrow, 
either  here  or  in  the  Dipper ! " 

"Before  you  see  me  or  the  Dipper 
again,  many  things  may  happen!"  she 
laughed. 

The  trio — the  absurd  little  Pantaloon; 
Columbine,  laughing  and  gracious  to 
the  last,  and  Pierrette,  smiling,  charm- 
ing, adorable — cheerily  called  good  night 
from  the  door  as  Cassowary  sent  the  car 
hurrying  out  of  the  grounds. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  the  life 
of  freedom  now?"  demanded  Hood  as 
the  car  reached  the  open  road.  "Begin 
to  have  a  little  faith  in  me,  eh?" 

"Well,  you  seemed  to  put  it  over," 
Deering  admitted  grudgingly.  "But  I 
can't  go  on  this  way,  Hood;  I  really 
can't  stand  it.  I've  got  to  quit  right 
now!" 

151 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"My  dear  boy!"  Hood  protested. 

"I've  heard  bad  news  about  my 
father;  one  of  the — er — servants  back 
there  told  ine  he  was  in  jail!" 

"Stop!"  bawled  Hood.  "This  is  im- 
portant if  true!  Cassowary,  I've  told 
you  time  and  again  to  bring  me  any 
news  you  pick  up  in  servants'  halls. 
What  have  you  heard  about  the  arrest 
of  a  gentleman  named  Deering?" 

"He's  been  pinched,  all  right,"  the 
chauffeur  answered  as  he  stopped  the 
car  and  turned  round.  "The  constables 
over  at  West  Dempster  are  trapping 
joy-riders,  and  they  nailed  Mr.  Deering 
about  sundown  for  speeding.  I  learned 
that  from  the  chauffeur  at  that  house 
where  you  dined." 

Hood  slapped  his  knee  and  chortled 
with  delight. 

152 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"There's  work  ahead  of  us!  But 
probably  he's  bailed  himself  out  by  this 
time." 

"Not  on  your  life!"  Cassowary  an- 
swered, and  Deering  marked  a  note  of 
jubilation  in  his  tone,  as  though  the 
thought  of  Mr.  Deering's  incarceration 
gave  him  pleasure.  :'The  magistrate's 
away  for  the  night,  and  there's  nobody 
there  to  fix  bail.  It's  part  of  the  treat- 
ment in  these  parts  to  hold  speed  fiends 
a  night  or  two." 

Again  Hood's  hand  fell  upon  Deer- 
ing's  knee. 

"A  situation  to  delight  the  gods!" 
he  cried.  "Cassowary,  old  man,  at 
the  next  crossroads  turn  to  the  right 
and  run  in  at  the  first  gate.  There's  a 
farmhouse  in  the  midst  of  an  orchard; 
we'll  stop  there  and  change  our  clothes." 
153 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

As  the  car  started  Deering  whirled 
upon  Hood  and  shook  him  violently  by 
the  collar. 

"I'm  sick  of  all  this  rot!  I  can't 
stand  any  more,  I  tell  you.  I'm  going 
to  quit  right  here  !" 

Hood  drew  his  arm  round  him  affec- 
tionately. 

"My  dear  son,  have  I  failed  you  at 
any  point?  Have  you  ever  in  your  life 
had  any  adventures  to  compare  with 
those  you've  had  with  me?  Stop  whin- 
ing and  trust  all  to  Hood !" 

Deering  sank  back  into  his  corner  with 
a  growl  of  suppressed  rage. 

When  they  reached  the  farmhouse 
Hood  drew  out  a  key  and  opened  the 
front  door  with  a  proprietorial  air. 

"Whose   place   is   this?     I   want   to 
know  what  I'm  getting  in  for,"   Deer- 
ing demanded  wrathfully. 
154 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"Mine,  dearest  Tuck!  Mine,  and  the 
taxes  paid.  I  use  it  as  a  rest-house  for 
weary  and  jaded  crooks,  if  that  will 
ease  your  mind !" 

Cassowary  struck  matches  and  lighted 
candles,  disclosing  a  half -furnished  room 
in  great  disorder.  Old  clothing,  paper 
bags  that  had  contained  food,  a  violin, 
and  books  in  good  bindings  littered  a 
table  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and 
articles  of  clothing  were  heaped  in  con- 
fusion on  a  time-battered  settle.  The 
odor  of  stale  pipe  smoke  hung  upon 
the  air.  Under  an  empty  bottle  on  the 
mantel  Hood  found  a  scrap  of  paper 
which  he  scanned  for  a  moment  and 
then  tore  into  pieces. 

"Just  a  scratch  from  good  old  Fogarty; 
he's  been  taking  the  rest-cure  here  be- 
tween jobs.  Skipped  yesterday;  same 
chap  that  left  his  mark  for  me  on  that 
155 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

barn.  One  of  the  royal  good  fellows, 
Fogarty;  does  his  work  neatly — never 
carries  a  gun  or  pots  a  cop;  knows  he 
can  climb  out  of  any  jail  that  ever  was 
made,  and  that,  son,  gives  any  man  a 
joyful  sense  of  ease  and  security.  The 
Tombs  might  hold  him,  but  he  avoids 
large  cities;  knows  his  limitations  like 
a  true  man  of  genius.  Rare  bird; 
thrifty  doesn't  describe  him;  he's  just 
plain  stingy;  sells  stolen  postage-stamps 
at  par;  the  only  living  yegg  that  can 
put  that  over!  By  George,  I  wouldn't 
be  surprised  if  he  couldn't  sell  'em  at  a 
premium!" 

As  he  talked  he  rummaged  among  the 
old  clothes,  chose  a  mud-splashed  pair 
of  trousers,  and  bade  Deering  put  them 
on,  adding  an  even  more  disreputable 
coat  and  hat.  Cassowary  helped  him- 
156 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

self  to  a  change  of  raiment,  and  Hood 
selected  what  seemed  to  be  the  worst  of 
the  lot. 

"Three  suspicious  characters  will  be 
noted  by  the  constabulary  of  West 
Dempster  within  two  hours!"  cried 
Hood,  hopping  out  of  his  dress  trousers. 
"Into  the  calaboose  we  shall  go,  my 
dear  Tuck !  Never  say  that  I  haven't 
a  thought  for  your  peace  and  happi- 
ness. It  will  give  me  joy  unfeigned  to 
bring  you  face  to  face  with  your  de- 
lightful parent.  Cassowary,  my  son, 
I'm  going  to  hide  those  bills  of  yours 
in  the  lining  of  my  coat  for  safety.  If 
they  found  ten  thousand  plunks  on  me, 
they'd  never  let  us  go ! " 

"Hood!"    cried    Deering   in    a   voice 
moist  with  tears,  "for  God's  sake  what 
fool  thing  are  you  up  to  now?" 
157 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"I  tell  you  we're  going  to  jail!" 
Hood  answered  jubilantly.  'You've 
dined  in  good  company  with  the  most 
charming  of  girls  at  your  side;  you've 
had  a  taste  of  the  prosperous  life;  and 
now  it's  fitting  that  we  should  touch 
the  other  extreme.  The  moment  we 
step  out  of  this  shack  we're  criminals, 
crooks,  gallows  meat;"  he  rolled  this 
last  term  under  his  tongue  unctuously. 
"This  will  top  all  our  other  adventures. 
Here's  hoping  Fogarty  may  have  pre- 
ceded us.  The  old  boy  likes  to  get 
pinched  occasionally  just  for  the  fun  of 
it." 

He  was  already  blowing  out  the 
candles,  and,  seizing  his  stick,  led  the 
way  back  to  the  highway,  with  Deering 
and  Cassowary  at  his  heels.  The  car 
had  been  run  into  an  old  barn,  which 
158 


THE    MADNESS    OP    MAY 

had  evidently  served  Hood  before. 
Within  twenty-four  hours  they  would 
be  touring  again,  he  announced.  The 
change  from  his  dress  clothes  to  ill- 
fitting  rags  had  evidently  wrought  a 
change  of  mood.  Between  whiffs  at 
his  pipe  he  sought  consolation  in  Wag- 
ner, chanting  bars  of  "In  fernem 
Land." 

Cassowary,  who  had  adjusted  himself 
to  this  new  situation  without  question, 
whispered  in  Deering's  ear:  "Don't  kick; 
he's  got  something  up  his  sleeve.  And 
he'll  get  you  out  of  it;  remember  that ! 
I've  been  in  jail  with  him  before." 

Deering  drew  away  impatiently.  He 
was  in  no  humor  to  welcome  confidences 
from  Torrence,  alias  Cassowary,  whom 
his  sister  met  clandestinely  and  kissed— 
the  kiss  rankled !  And  yet  it  was  noth- 
159 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

ing  against  Cassowary  that  he  had  been 
following  Hood  about  like  an  infatuated 
fool.  Deering  knew  himself  to  be  equally 
culpable  on  that  score,  and  he  was  even 
now  trudging  after  the  hypnotic  vaga- 
bond with  a  country  calaboose  as  their 
common  goal.  The  chauffeur's  interview 
with  Constance  had  evidently  cheered 
him  mightily,  and  he  joined  his  voice  to 
Hood's  in  a  very  fair  rendering  of  "Ben 
Bolt."  Deering  swore  under  his  breath, 
angry  at  Hood,  and  furious  that  he  had 
so  little  control  of  a  destiny  that  seemed 
urging  him  on  to  destruction. 


160 


IX 

AT  one  o'clock  West  Dempster  lay 
*•**  dark  and  silent  before  them.  As 
they  crossed  a  bridge  into  the  town 
Hood  began  to  move  cautiously. 

"Remember  that  we  give  up  without 
a  struggle:  there's  too  much  at  stake 
to  risk  a  bullet  now,  and  these  country 
lumpkins  shoot  first,  and  hand  you  their 
cards  afterward." 

He  dived  into  an  alley,  and  emerged 
midway  of  a  block  where  a  number  of 
barrels  under  a  shed  awning  advertised 
a  grocery. 

"Admirable !"  whispered  Hood,  throw- 
ing his  arms  about  his  comrades.     "We 
will  now  arouse  the  watch." 
161 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

With  this  he  kicked  a  barrel  into  the 
gutter,  and  jumped  back  like  a  mis- 
chievous boy  into  the  shelter  of  the 
alley.  Footsteps  were  heard  in  a  mo- 
ment, far  down  the  street. 

"These  country  cops  are  sometimes 
shrewd,  but  often  the  silly  children  of 
convention  like  the  rest  of  us.  West 
Dempster  has  an  evil  reputation  in  the 
underworld.  The  pinching  of  joy-riders 
is  purely  incidental;  they  run  in  any- 
body they  catch  after  the  curfew  sounds 
from  the  coffin  factory." 

A  window  overhead  opened  with  a 
bang,  and  a  blast  from  a  police  whistle 
pierced  the  air  shrilly.  Deering  started 
to  run,  but  Hood  upset  him  with  a  thrust 
of  his  foot.  Two  men  were  already 
creeping  up  behind  them  in  the  alley; 
the  owner  of  the  grocery  stole  out  of 
162 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

the  front  door  in  a  long  nightgown  and 
began  howling  dismally  for  help. 

"Throw  up  your  hands,  boys;  it's 
no  use!"  cried  Hood  in  mock  despair. 

Then  the  man  hi  the  nightgown,  after 
menacing  Hood  with  a  pistol,  stuck 
the  barrel  of  it  into  Deering's  mouth, 
opened  inopportunely  to  protest  his  in- 
nocence. The  policemen  threw  them- 
selves upon  Hood  and  Cassowary, 
toppled  them  over,  and  flashed  electric 
lamps  in  their  faces. 

"More  o'  them  yeggs,"  announced 
one  of  the  officers  with  satisfaction  as 
he  snapped  a  pair  of  handcuffs  on  Casso- 
wary's wrists.  "Don't  you  fellows  try 
any  monkey-shines  or  we'll  plug  you 
full  o'  lead.  Trot  along  now." 

The  gentleman  in  the  night-robe 
wished  to  detain  the  party  for  a  recital 
163 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

of  his  own  prowess  in  giving  warning 
of  the  attempted  burglary.  The  police 
were  disposed  to  make  light  of  his  as- 
sistance, while  Hood  hung  back  to  sup- 
port the  grocer's  cause,  a  generosity  on 
his  part  that  was  received  ill-temperedly 
by  the  officers  of  the  law.  They  bade 
the  grocer  report  to  the  magistrate  Mon- 
day morning,  and  they  parted,  but  only 
after  Hood  had  shaken  the  crestfallen 
grocer  warmly  by  the  hand,  warning 
him  with  the  greatest  solicitude  against 
further  exposure  to  the  night  air.  Two 
other  policemen  appeared;  the  whole 
force  was  doing  them  honor,  Hood  de- 
clared proudly.  He  lifted  his  voice  in 
song,  but  the  lyrical  impulse  was  hushed 
by  a  prod  from  a  revolver.  He  con- 
tinued to  talk,  however,  assuring  his 
captors  of  his  heartiest  admiration  for 
164 


"  Throw  up  your  hands,  boys  ;  it's  no  use !  "  cried  Hood  in 
mock  despair. 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

their  efficiency.  He  meant  to  recom- 
mend them  for  positions  in  the  secret 
service — men  of  their  genius  were  wasted 
upon  a  country  town. 

When  they  reached  the  town  hall  a 
melancholy  jailer  roused  himself  and 
conducted  them  to  the  lockup  in  the 
rear  of  the  building.  Careful  search 
revealed  nothing  but  a  mass  of  crumpled 
clippings  and  a  pipe  and  tobacco  in 
Hood's  pockets. 

"  Guess  they  dropped  their  tools  some- 
where," muttered  one  of  the  officers. 

"My  dear  boy,"  explained  Hood,  "the 
gentleman  in  the  nightie,  whom  I  take 
to  be  a  citizen  and  merchant  of  standing 
in  your  metropolis,  may  be  able  to  assist 
you  in  finding  them.  We  left  our  safe- 
blowing  apparatus  in  a  chicken-coop  in 
his  back  yard." 

165 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

They  were  entered  on  the  blotter  as 
R.  Hood,  F.  Tuck,  and  Cass  O'Weary 
— the  last  Hood  spelled  with  the  ut- 
most care  for  the  scowling  turnkey — and 
charged  with  attempt  to  commit  bur- 
glary and  arson. 

Hood  grumbled;  he  had  hoped  it 
would  be  murder  or  piracy  on  the  high 
seas;  burglary  and  arson  were  so  com- 
monplace, he  remarked  with  a  sigh. 

The  door  closed  upon  them  with  an 
echoing  clang,  and  they  found  themselves 
in  a  large  coop,  bare  save  for  several 
benches  ranged  along  the  walls.  Two 
of  these  were  occupied  by  prisoners, 
one  of  whom,  a  short,  thick-set  man, 
snored  vociferously.  Hood  noted  his 
presence  with  interest. 

"Fogarty!"  he  whispered  with  a  tri- 
umphant wave  of  his  hand. 
166 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

A  tall  man  who  had  chosen  a  cot  as 
remote  as  possible  from  his  fellow  pris- 
oner sat  up  and,  seeing  the  newcomers, 
stalked  majestically  to  the  door  and 
yelled  dismally  for  the  keeper,  who 
lounged  indifferently  to  the  cage,  puffing 
a  cigar. 

"This  is  an  outrage!"  roared  the 
prisoner.  "Locking  me  up  with  these 
felons — these  common  convicts !  I  de- 
mand counsel;  I'm  going  to  have  a 
writ  of  habeas  corpus !  When  I  get  out 
of  here  I'm  going  to  go  to  the  governor 
of  your  damned  State  and  complain  of 
this.  All  Connecticut  shall  know  of 
it !  All  America  shall  hear  of  it !  To 
be  locked  up  with  one  safe-blower  is 
enough,  and  now  you've  stuck  three 
murderers  into  this  rotten  hole.  I  tell 
you  I  can  give  bail.  I  tell  you— 
167 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

The  jailer  snarled  and  bade  him  be 
quiet.  In  the  tone  of  a  man  who  is 
careful  of  his  words  he  threatened  the 
direst  punishment  for  any  further  ex- 
pression of  the  gentleman's  opinions. 
Whereupon  the  gentleman  seized  the 
bars  and  shook  them  violently,  and  then, 
as  though  satisfied  that  they  were  steel 
of  the  best  quality,  dropped  his  arms 
to  his  sides  with  a  gesture  of  impotent 
despair. 

"Father!" 

In  spite  of  Constance's  assertion,  con- 
firmed by  Cassowary,  Deering  had  not 
believed  that  his  father  was  in  jail; 
but  the  outraged  gentleman  who  had 
demanded  the  writ  of  habeas  corpus 
was,  beyond  question,  Samuel  J.  Deer- 
ing,  head  of  the  banking-house  of  Deer- 
ing,  Gaylord  &  Co.  Mr.  Deering  was 
168 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

striding  toward  his  bench  with  the  sulky 
droop  of  a  premium  batter  who  has 
struck  out  with  the  bases  full. 

Scorning  to  glance  at  the  creature  in 
rags  who  had  flung  himself  in  his  path, 
Samuel  J.  Deering  lunged  at  him  fiercely 
with  his  right  arm.  Billy,  ducking  op- 
portunely, saved  his  indignant  parent 
from  tumbling  upon  the  floor  by  catch- 
ing him  in  his  arms.  Feeling  that  he 
had  been  attacked  by  a  ruffian,  Mr. 
Deering  yelled  that  he  was  being  mur- 
dered. 

"I'm  Billy!  For  God's  sake,  be 
quiet!" 

The  senior  Deering  tottered  to  the  wall. 

"Billy!  What  are  you  in  for?"  he 
demanded  finally. 

"Burglary,  arson,  and  little  things 
like  that,"  Billy  answered  with  a  jaun- 
169 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

tiness  that  surprised  him  as  much  as  it 
pained  his  father,  who  continued  to 
stare  uncomprehendingly. 

'You've  been  reading  that  damned 
book,  too,  have  you?"  he  whispered 
hoarsely  in  his  son's  ear.  'You've  gone 
crazy  like  everybody  else,  have  you?" 

"I've  been  kidnaped,  if  that's  what 
you  mean,"  Billy  answered  with  a  mean- 
ingful glance  over  his  shoulder,  and  then 
with  a  fine  attempt  at  bravado:  "I'm 
Friar  Tuck,  and  that  chap  smoking  a 
pipe  is  Robin  Hood." 

Ordinarily  his  father's  sense  of  humor 
could  be  trusted  to  respond  to  an  in- 
telligent appeal.  A  slow  grin  had  over- 
spread Mr.  Deering's  face  as  Friar  Tuck 
was  mentioned,  but  when  Billy  added 
Robin  Hood  his  father's  countenance 
underwent  changes  indicative  of  hope, 
170 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

fear,  and  chagrin.  Clinging  to  Billy's 
shoulder,  he  peered  through  the  gloom 
of  the  cage  toward  Hood,  who  lay  on 
a  bench,  his  coat  rolled  up  for  a  pillow, 
tranquilly  smoking,  with  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  steel  roof. 

"Hood!"  Mr.  Deering  walked  slowly 
toward  Hood's  bench. 

Hood  sat  up,  took  his  pipe  from  his 
mouth,  and  nodded. 

"Hood,  this  is  my  father,"  said  Billy. 

"A  great  pleasure,  I'm  sure,"  Hood 
responded  courteously,  extending  his 
hand.  "I  suppose  it  was  inevitable  that 
we  should  meet  sooner  or  later,  Mr. 
Deering." 

"You — you  are  Bob — Bob — Tyring- 
ham?"  asked  Deering  anxiously. 

"Right!"  cried  Hood  in  his  usual 
assured  manner.  "And  I  will  say  for 
171 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

you  that  you  have  given  me  a  good 
chase.  I  confess  that  I  didn't  think  you 
capable  of  it;  I  swear  I  didn't!  Tuck, 
I  congratulate  you;  your  father  is  one 
of  the  true  brotherhood  of  the  stars. 
He's  been  chasing  me  for  a  month  and, 
by  Jove,  he's  kept  me  guessing !  But 
when  I  heard  that  he'd  been  jailed  for 
speeding,  with  a  prospect  of  spending 
Sunday  in  this  hole,  I  decided  that  it 
was  time  to  throw  down  the  mask." 

Lights  began  to  dance  in  the  remote 
recesses  of  Billy's  mind.  Hood  was 
Robert  Tyringham,  for  whom  his  father 
held  as  trustee  two  million  dollars. 
Tyringham  had  not  been  heard  of  in 
years.  The  only  son  of  a  most  practical 
father,  he  had  been  from  youth  a  vic- 
tim of  the  wanderlust,  absenting  himself 
from  home  for  long  periods.  For  ten 
172 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

years  he  had  been  on  the  list  of  the 
missing.  That  Hood  should  be  this 
man  was  unbelievable.  But  the  senior 
Deering  seemed  not  to  question  his 
identity.  He  sat  down  with  a  deep  sigh 
and  then  began  to  laugh. 

"If  I  hadn't  found  you  by  next 
Wednesday,  I  should  have  had  to  turn 
your  property  over  to  a  dozen  charitable 
institutions  provided  for  by  your  father's 
will — and,  by  George,  I've  been  fight- 
ing a  temptation  to  steal  it!"  His  arms 
clasped  Billy's  shoulder  convulsively. 
"It's  been  horrible,  ghastly!  I've  been 
afraid  I  might  find  you  and  afraid  I 
wouldn't!  I  tell  you  it's  been  hell. 
I've  spent  thousands  of  dollars  trying 
to  find  you,  fearing  one  day  you  might 
turn  up,  and  the  next  day  afraid  you 
wouldn't.  And,  you  know,  Tyringham, 
173 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

your  father  was  my  dearest  friend;  that's 
what  made  it  all  so  horrible.  I  want 
you  to  know  about  it,  Billy;  I  want  you 
to  know  the  worst  about  me;  I'm  not 
the  man  you  thought  me.  When  I 
started  away  with  Constance  and  told 
you  I  was  going  to  California  I  decided 
to  make  a  last  effort  to  find  Tyringham. 
I  read  a  damned  novel  that  acted  on 
me  like  a  poison;  that's  why  I've  made 
a  fool  of  myself  in  a  thousand  ways, 
thinking  that  by  masquerading  over  the 
country  1  might  catch  Tyringham  at  his 
own  game.  And  now  you  know  what  I 
might  have  been;  you  see  what  I  was 
trying  to  be — a  common  thief,  a  betrayer 
of  a  sacred  trust." 

"Don't  talk  like  that,  father,"  began 
Billy,  shaken  by  his  father's  humility. 
"I  guess  we're  in  the  same  hole,  only 
174 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

I'm  in  deeper.  I  tried  to  rob  you.  I 
tried  to  steal  some  of  that  Tyringham 
money  myself,  but — but— 

Hood,  wishing  to  leave  the  two  alone 
for  their  further  confidences,  walked  to 
the  recumbent  Fogarty,  roused  him  with 
a  dig  in  the  ribs,  and  conferred  with 
him  in  low  tones. 

"You  took  the  stuff  from  my  box, 
Billy?"  Mr.  Deering  asked. 

Billy  waited  apprehensively  for  what 
might  follow.  It  was  possible  that  his 
father  had  already  robbed  the  Tyring- 
ham estate;  the  thought  chilled  him 
into  dejection. 

"I  had  stolen  it.  My  God,  I  couldn't 
help  it!"  Deering  groaned.  "I  left  that 
waste  paper  in  the  box  to  fool  myself, 
and  put  the  real  stuff  in  another  place. 
I  hoped — yes,  that  was  it,  I  hoped — I'd 
175 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

never  find  Tyringham  and  I  could  keep 
those  bonds.  But  all  the  time  I  kept 
looking  for  him.  You  see,  Billy,  I  could- 
n't be  as  bad  as  I  wanted  to  be;  and 
yet " 

He  drew  his  hand  across  his  face  as 
though  to  shut  out  the  picture  he  saw 
of  himself  as  a  felon. 

"Oh,  you  wouldn't  have  done  it; 
you  couldn't  have  done  it!"  cried  Billy, 
anxious  to  mitigate  his  father's  misery. 
"If  you  hadn't  hidden  the  real  bonds,  I'd 
have  been  a  thief!  Ned  Ranscomb  was 
trying  to  corner  Mizpah  and  needed  my 
help.  I  put  in  all  I  had — that  two  hun- 
dred thousand  you  gave  me  my  last 
birthday,  and  then  he  skipped.  When 
I  get  hold  of  him !" 

:<You  put  two  hundred  thousand  in 
Mizpah?" 

176 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

"I  did,  like  a  fool,  and,  of  course,  it's 
lost !  Ned  went  daffy  about  a  girl  and 
dropped  Mizpah — and  my  money!" 

Mr.  Deering  was  once  more  a  business 
man.  "What  did  Ranscomb  buy  at?" 
he  asked  curtly. 

"Seven  and  a  quarter." 

"Then  you  needn't  kick  Ned!  The 
Ranscombs  put  through  their  deal  and 
Mizpah's  gone  to  forty!" 

Hood  rejoined  them,  and  they  talked 
till  daylight.  He  told  them  much  of 
himself.  The  responsibility  of  a  great 
fortune  had  not  appealed  to  him;  he 
had  been  honest  in  his  preference  for  the 
vagabond  life,  but  realized,  now  that 
he  was  well  launched  upon  middle  age, 
that  it  was  only  becoming  and  decent 
for  him  to  alter  his  ways.  Billy's  liking 
for  him,  that  had  struggled  so  rebel- 
177 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

liously  against  impatience  and  distrust, 
warmed  to  the  heartiest  admiration. 

"Of  course  I  knew  you  were  mar- 
ried,'* the  senior  Deering  remarked  for 
Billy's  enlightenment,  "and  now  and 
then  I  got  glimpses  of  you  in  your  gypsy 
life.  Your  wife  had  a  fortune  of  her 
own — she  was  one  of  Augustus  Davis' s 
daughters — so  of  course  she  hasn't  suf- 
fered from  your  foolishness." 

"My  wife  shared  my  tastes;  there 
has  never  been  the  slightest  trouble 
between  us.  Our  daughter  is  just  like 
us.  But  now  Mrs.  Tyringham  thinks 
we  ought  to  settle  down  and  be  re- 
spectable." 

"I  knew  your  wife  and  daughter  had 

come  home.     I  had  got  that  far,"  Mr. 

Deering  resumed.     "And  after  I  began 

to  suspect  that  you  and  Hood  were  the 

178 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

same  person  I  put  my  own  daughter 
into  your  house  on  the  Dempster  road 
as  a  spy  to  watch  for  you." 

"My  wife  wasn't  fooled  for  a  minute," 
Hood  chuckled.  "We  were  having  our 
last  fling  before  we  settled  down  for 
the  rest  of  our  days.  We  all  have  the 
same  weakness  for  a  springtime  lark :  my 
wife,  my  daughter,  and  I." 

Billy  ran  his  hands  through  his  hair. 
"Pierrette !  Pierrette  is  your  daughter ! ' ' 

"Certainly,"  replied  Hood;  "and 
Columbine,  the  dearest  woman  in  the 
world,  is  my  wife,  and  Pantaloon  my 
father-in-law.  In  my  affair  with  you 
there  was  only  one  coincidence:  every- 
thing else  was  planned.  It  was  Pier- 
rette, whose  real  name  is  Roberta — 
Bobby  for  short,  when  we're  not  play- 
ing a  game  of  some  sort — Bobby  really 
179 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

did  lift  your  suitcase  by  mistake.  And 
it  was  stowed  away  in  Cassowary's  car 
when  I  came  to  your  house  intending 
to  return  it.  But  when  I  saw  that  you 
needed  diversion  I  decided  to  give  you 
a  whirl.  It  was  an  easy  matter  for 
Cassowary  to  move  the  suitcase  to  the 
bungalow,  where  you  found  it.  I  steered 
you  to  the  house  on  purpose  to  see  how 
you  and  Bobby  would  hit  it  off.  The 
result  seems  to  have  been  satisfactory!" 

Cassowary  turned  uneasily  on  his 
bench. 

"And  before  we  quit  all  this  foolish- 
ness," Hood  resumed  with  a  glance  at 
the  chauffeur,  "there's  one  thing  I  want 
to  ask  you,  Mr.  Deering,  as  a  special 
favor.  That  chap  lying  over  there  is 
Tommy  Torrence,  whom  you  kicked  off 
your  door-step  for  daring  to  love  your 
180 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

daughter.  He's  one  of  the  best  fellows 
in  the  world.  Just  because  his  father, 
the  old  senator,  didn't  quite  hit  it  off 
with  you  in  a  railroad  deal  before  Tommy 
was  born  is  no  reason  why  you  should 
take  it  out  on  the  boy.  He  started  for 
the  bad  after  you  made  a  row  over  his 
attentions  to  your  daughter,  but  he's 
been  with  me  six  months  and  he's  as 
right  and  true  a  chap  as  ever  lived. 
You've  got  to  fix  it  up  with  him  or  I'll— 
I'll — well,  I'll  be  pretty  hard  on  your 
boy  if  he  ever  wants  to  break  into  my 
family!" 

With  this  Hood  rose  and  drew  from 
his  pocket  a  handful  of  newspaper  clip- 
pings which  he  threw  into  the  air  and 
watched  flutter  to  the  floor. 

"Those  are  some  of  your  advertise- 
ments   offering    handsome    rewards    for 
181 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

news  of  me  dead  or  alive.  In  collecting 
them  I've  had  a  mighty  good  time. 
Let's  all  go  to  sleep;  to-morrow  night 
the  genial  Fogarty  will  get  us  out  of 
this.  He's  over  there  now  sawing  the 
first  bar  of  that  window !" 


182 


A  YEAR  has  passed  and  it  is  May 
•*•*-  again  and  the  last  day  of  that 
month  of  enchantment.  There  has  been 
a  house-party  at  the  Deering  place  at 
Radford  Hills.  Constance  came  from 
Wyoming  to  spend  May  with  her  father, 
bringing  with  her,  of  course,  her  hus- 
band, sometime  known  as  Cassowary, 
who  has  been  elected  to  the  legislature 
of  his  State  and,  may,  it  is  reported, 
be  governor  one  of  these  days.  The 
Tyringhams  are  there,  and  this  includes 
Robert  Tyringham,  alias  R.  Hood,  and 
his  wife  (whose  authorship  of  'The 
Madness  of  May,"  has  not  yet  been 
acknowledged)  and  also  her  father,  Au- 
gustus Davis,  who  continues  to  find 
183 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

recreation  in  frequent  attacks  upon  any 
inoffensive  piano  that  gets  in  his  way. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edward  Ranscomb,  too, 
have  shared  Mr.  Deering's  hospitality. 
Marriage  has  not  interrupted  Mrs.  Rans- 
comb's  career  as  an  artist,  though  she 
has  dropped  illustrating,  and  is  special- 
izing hi  children's  portraits  with  dis- 
tinguished success. 

The  senior  Deering,  wholly  at  peace 
with  his  conscience,  does  not  work  as 
hard  as  he  used  to  before  his  taste  of 
adventurous  life  gained  in  the  pursuit  of 
Hood.  He  is  very  proud  of  his  daughter- 
in-law,  whose  brown  eyes  bring  constant 
cheer  and  happiness  to  his  table.  If 
she  does  not  hang  moons  in  trees  any 
more,  she  is  still  quite  capable  of  doing 
so,  and  has  no  idea  of  permitting  her 
husband  to  wear  himself  out  in  the 
184 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

banking-house.  They  are  going  to  keep 
some  time  every  year  for  play,  she  de- 
clares, to  the  very  end  of  their  lives. 

Hood  had  been  devoting  himself  as- 
siduously to  mastering  the  details  of 
his  business  affairs,  living  as  other  men 
do,  keeping  regular  office  hours  in  a 
tall  building  with  an  outlook  toward 
the  sea,  and  taking  his  recreation  on 
the  golf-links  every  other  afternoon. 

"Mamma  has  been  nervous  all  this 
month  about  papa,"  Roberta  (known 
otherwise  as  Pierrette  or  Bobby)  was 
saying  as  she  and  Billy  slowly  paced 
the  veranda.  "But  now  May  is  over 
and  he  hasn't  shown  any  disposition  to 
run  away.  I  suppose  he's  really  cured." 
There  was  a  tinge  of  regret  in  her  last 
words. 

"Yes,"  Billy  replied  carelessly.  "He 
185 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

hasn't  mentioned  his  old  roving  days 
lately.  I  think  he's  even  sensitive  about 
having  them  referred  to." 

"But  even  if  he  should  want  to  go, 
mamma  wouldn't  break  her  heart  about 
it.  She  feels  that  it's  really  something 
fine  in  him:  his  love  of  the  out-of-doors, 
and  adventures,  and  knowing  all  sorts 
and  conditions  of  men.  And  he  has 
really  helped  lots  of  people,  just  as  he 
helped  you.  And  he  always  had  so 
much  fun  when  we  all  played  gypsy, 
or  he  went  off  alone  and  came  back 
with  no  end  of  good  stories.  I'm  just 
a  little  sorry " 

They  paused,  clasping  hands  and  look- 
ing off  at  the  starry  canopy.  Sud- 
denly from  the  side  of  the  house  a  man 
walked  slowly,  hesitatingly.  He  stopped, 
turned,  glanced  at  the  veranda,  and 
186 


THE    MADNESS    OF    MAY 

then,  sniffing  the  air,  walked  rapidly 
toward  the  gate,  swinging  a  stick,  his 
face  lifted  to  the  stars. 

Bobby's  hand  clasped  Billy's  more 
tightly  as  they  watched  in  silence. 

"It's  papa;  he's  taking  to  the  road 
again!"  she  murmured. 

"But  he'll  come  back;  it  won't  be 
for  long  this  time.  I  haven't  the  heart 
to  stop  him !" 

"No,"  she  said  softly,  "it  would  be 
cruel  to  do  that." 

The  lamps  at  the  gate  shone  upon 
Robert  Tyringham  as  he  paused  and 
then,  with  a  characteristic  flourish  of 
his  stick,  turned  westward  and  strode 
away  into  the  night. 


187 


A    000058188     4 


